King of the Wilds - Tasha Black Page 0,4

the bright, fiery red of her hair.

“Come,” he said, offering her his hands.

She took them and allowed him to help her to her feet.

He was surprised to see how tall she was. He still towered above her, but she was a very healthy specimen as mortals went.

He felt an odd pang of kinship towards this other large being with flame-colored hair like his own.

“What was that?” she asked him, looking over her left shoulder into the woods.

Who are you? would have been a more common question for a shivering mortal, but she seemed utterly unafraid of Bron’s bare, muscled chest and impressive height.

“That was called a fachan,” he told her. “It’s a one-eyed, hairy harbinger of hell.”

“What did it want?” she asked.

“To club you over the head and eat you… eventually,” he replied. “They like to play with their food first.”

“Thank you for saving me,” she said earnestly.

He smiled at her in spite of himself.

Bron had always enjoyed mortals. He understood all living things to some extent, even the fachan, in its way. But Bron was considered too big-hearted by many of his fae brothers. He was vulnerable to small, fragile things.

Including humans, despite the risks.

Mortals like this woman were very reckless with their short lifespans. They had so little to lose, and it made them dangerous. Bron’s nanny had warned him since he was a child to give mortals a wide berth.

But he was no child now.

And he’d never seen another mortal quite like this woman.

“Let’s get you someplace safe,” he said gruffly, trying not to let himself listen to her heartbeat.

She nodded and took a step, wincing when she did.

“You said you weren’t hurt,” he said accusingly.

“Well, I hurt my foot, but that was before all this,” the woman replied. “I’m not used to the woods. And these shoes are the worst.”

They looked together at her inadequate footwear. They really were terrible. Typical mortal female nonsense with pointed toes and spiky heels designed to give an illusion of tallness.

Many creatures tried to appear bigger to ward off predators. But this human was of ample height. She had no need for such things.

“Take them off,” he said.

She removed them meekly.

“I will carry you,” he told her.

Her eyes grew larger still, but she didn’t protest. She merely extended her arms to hold onto him as he scooped her up.

She felt incredible, warm and soft, her curves conforming to his hard muscle.

“What were you doing out here?” he asked her, trying to keep his mind off the feel of her body against his.

“I work for the developer who’s buying this land,” she told him. “There was an accident the other day and he wanted someone on the ground to ask questions.”

“Did he know you were going out alone after dark without proper footwear?” Bron demanded.

“Uh, the footwear is company policy,” Miranda said. “But it’s my fault it’s so late. I didn’t start off alone. I was working in the cabin and lost track of time. Everyone else went home.”

“I see,” Bron said.

He didn’t see though. The woman should not have been left unattended. The woods were full of monsters. Not that the mortals knew this. They were often blind to anything their meager senses could not explain.

This particular mortal was taking the news strangely well.

“So were you telling me the truth about the fachan?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “They’re very dangerous.”

“Then why haven’t I heard of it before?” she asked.

“It’s not commonly found here,” he told her carefully.

“In Pennsylvania?” she asked.

He chuckled at that. “Sure.”

“And what were those… lights?”

“How much do you know about faeries?” he asked.

She fell quiet.

“What about magic?” he asked.

Still no answer.

“Well, there’s no point beating around the bush,” he said. “What you saw were will o’ the wisps. They’re evil fae that lead mortals into danger.”

“Why?” she asked.

He hadn’t expected that question.

“I suppose they think it’s funny,” he told her.

“And you?” she asked.

Interesting.

He had thought that maybe she wouldn’t sense his magic. After all, he looked like a human male, except for being much larger and clearly stronger than most human males.

But he was beginning to realize there was something about her too, something… other than mortal.

“I am the King of the Wilds,” he told her proudly.

“Oh,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you, your majesty.”

She couldn’t bow since she was cradled in his arms, but he suspected she would have if she’d been on the ground. Instead, she lowered her eyes.

“You may call me Bron,” he decided.

“I’m Miranda,” she replied.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said.

“So