LISA
After Ava and Lucas left on the midnight mission, all of Wolf’s Landing was left on edge, waiting for so sort of attack to occur. I’m pretty sure there isn’t a single adult willing to sleep tonight.
But what we didn’t expect was to find fifty ard Fae in military gear in the middle of our secure compound, especially in the wee hours of morning.
The words coming out of their mouths sound like water trickling over pebbles mixed with glass breaking, strangely lodic but also cold and harsh. My eyes drift over Magister Orion’s back as he argues, I think, with the leader of this new group of Fae.
The magitech brace on my arm is ready to be activated at a mont’s notice. I’m not the only one on edge; it’s as if every shifter in the compound has arrived to defend our ho.
If it wasn’t for the Magister, the fight would have already begun.
The leader of these newcors is tall, with dark brown skin and green hair and strange markings on his face. I don’t think they’re tattoos. If anything, I’d guess it’s so kind of battle make-up?
He spits out sothing, probably so sort of demand by the way his shoulders are squared and his posture’s all rigid in an "I’m about to fuck shit up" stance that transcends species barriers.
"No. They have no authority here," Vanessa says, her voice carrying across the clearing. She stands beside Magister Orion, looking oddly at ease for soone staring down what might as well be a Fae SWAT team.
More importantly, I desperately want to know how she understands what they’re saying. No one knows what’s going on. No one except Vanessa, anyway.
Eleanor leans in to whisper, "This seems like trouble."
"No shit," I mutter, stepping a little to my left to get away from her overly friendly actions.
The leader takes an aggressive step forward. They’re all dressed in the sa uniform, made of a strange, magical fabric. It shifts colors subtly; greens and browns bleed into grays and then back again, and my eyes keep watering when I stare too intensely.
He gestures sharply with one hand while the other rests on what is an actual, honest-to-goodness sword hilt.
So of them have what look like guns, I think—it’s kind of hard to focus on the details thanks to their uniforms—but a shocking amount of them carry swords. Those, for so reason, are clear to my vision.
Magister Orion shakes his head, saying sothing brief that makes several Fae behind the leader exchange glances.
Vanessa’s voice cuts through once again. "No. She is under our protection. Cross that line, and you’ll be returning to your queen in pieces rather than reporting your failure."
Holy shit.
My heart flips in both fear and admiration, even as my brain sorts through the puzzle of her words. The Fae are here for soone.
It has to be Pip—or, rather, Princess Pellonia.
Which ans these must be mbers of the Royal Guard or whatever the Fae royals have to watch over them.
The entire area’s deadly silent, with only the sound of the Fae talking and Eleanor’s heavy breathing as she shifts a little closer to again.
Kellan’s still in the hospital; I’m sure he’s aware of what’s happening, but he has yet to show up, probably due to his injuries. While I haven’t been raised around wolves like Ava was, I can guess why: an injured leader makes the pack look weak.
Still, it’s interesting to see Vanessa be the one chosen to deal with this strange situation.
The Fae leader barks sothing that sounds like a command. Several of his soldiers shift positions, and the tension ratchets up another notch, making my stomach a little queasy.
Then the leader makes a weird gesture with his hand, and the portal we’ve all been politely ignoring grows brighter.
The strange, shimring tear in the air is how they ca here in the first place, though it was a lot wider as four Fae at a ti marched through it.
Thankfully, the Magister was already here. Otherwise, the strange Fae invasion would have turned into another bloodbath.
Then again, it’s still possible...
But my breath eases out in a soft, relieved sigh as several of the new Fae disappear back through the portal on their leader’s order. Eventually, only three of them remain. The leader and two slightly shorter Fae standing on either side of him.
"Welco to Wolf’s Landing," Vanessa says calmly, reaching out to shake their leader’s hand.
Eleanor’s staring at the portal with shining eyes, scribbling madly in her journal like she’s witnessing the second coming. I lean over, curiosity getting the better of , and nearly do a double-take at what I see.
That’s... definitely not English. Not any language I recognize, actually. The symbols look like soone crossed circuit diagrams with ancient runes, all flowing together in tight, precise patterns.
"What exactly are you doing?" I ask, not bothering to hide the suspicion in my voice.
Eleanor doesn’t even look up, her pencil flying across the page. "Recording the energy signature of the rift. The way it bends spaceti is fascinating—see how the edges shimr? That’s dinsional tension."
Ah. Magical nerd stuff. I don’t get any of it; she’s clearly seeing sothing a little deeper than , because all I see is a shimring tear in the air.
"Oh."
But we’ve got bigger problems than Eleanor’s weird hobby right now. I turn my attention back to the remaining Fae and Magister Orion, who’s extending his massive hand to each of them in turn. They clasp forearms instead of shaking hands.
Vanessa leans toward Magister Orion. When she speaks, her words aren’t exactly loud, but they aren’t quiet, either, as if she doesn’t care if the new Fae can hear what she’s saying. "Will you be fine?"
The Magister responds with sothing in the strange, musical Fae language. I can’t understand a word, but Vanessa nods like it makes perfect sense.
There’s sothing very surreal about all of this.
Then she turns sharply. "You three," she says, pointing to a group of shifters standing nearby. "Stay with our guests. They’ll be leaving shortly."
The strange procession moves toward the building where Magister Orion and the other Fae residents have been staying. The leader’s back is stiff, his hand never straying far from his sword hilt, but the uneasy, tense energy has mostly dissipated.
The crowd of shifters begins to disperse, but there’s none of the usual chatter. Just tense silence and aningful glances. Nobody’s happy about this little surprise visit, and I’m not the only one here with a lot of questions.
But the most important thing is that there’s no fight to be had. Magister Orion leads the Fae to do whatever the fuck they’re doing, and it isn’t long before all the shifters have returned to their hos.
Vanessa turns around, and her eyebrows shoot up when she spots Eleanor and still standing there. She recovers quickly, her expression smoothing over.
"Eleanor, you should go rest."
"But what’s happening? Why did they co through a direct portal? What’s their purpose—"
The healer’s expression hardens slightly as she looks at Eleanor, then shifts her gaze to . "There’s nothing to worry about," she says calmly. "They’re not here for any of us."
"It didn’t look like a friendly social call," I point out.
Vanessa glances at Eleanor again, a slight frown tugging at her lips. "Lisa, let’s talk in the debriefing tent."
Eleanor imdiately steps forward. "I could help with—"
"What exactly are you doing?" Vanessa’s voice turns ice cold. "This is pack business."
Eleanor’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. "I—I just thought—with the magical aspects—"
"Thank you for your concern, but we have it handled."
"Oh. Then I’ll study this portal—"
"I wouldn’t, if I were you."
Eleanor ends up hurrying off, practically chased away by the nicest shifter in the pack. It’s strangely satisfying to watch.
I duck into the debriefing tent behind Vanessa, breathing out a happy little sigh at the warmth inside. I’ll never get used to this cold.
Vanessa heads straight for a chair and collapses into it, dragging a hand down her face as she lets out a deep, exhausted breath.
"So?" I prompt when she doesn’t imdiately speak. "What’s going on?"
Vanessa looks up at , dark circles under her eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. "They aren’t here to cause trouble, but the Fae want their princess back."
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