“Tonight will be judgment day for all of you if you question the loyalty of the leader’s son again!” War barked.
They bowed their heads, trembling. “We don’t have any doubts,” they said in unison.
“Good. Now get the others and wait for the portal. If anyone is left behind, they are dead!” War snapped.
They scrambled onto their white unicorns and vanished into the mist, blowing their horns to alert the others in the forest that it was time to leave.
War shoved the dead warrior aside. “What’s at the Hollow Forest?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“A genocide waiting to happen for Hoax’s army. They’re being led straight to their deaths. A pack of massive forest wolves are waiting to eat. There will not be any more of their army,” War answered.
Seconds later, Grim crept up like a black-cloaked shadow, breezing by like the wind. His body dissolved into a swirl of smoke, slipping around the latch on Hoax’s wooden door. The door snapped open with a groan, inviting us into Hoax’s creepy fortress.
We stepped inside. My stomach twisted as the stench hit me—rank, sour, a mix of dirty feet and something worse.
“I can feel you tensing up. That is why I told you to let me deal with him,” War said.
“I need to face my fears,” I replied.
“It smells like feet and ass in here,” Grim said, wrinkling his nose as he closed the door.
“His disgusting ass scent infuriates me,” I gritted, trying not to gag.
I slipped out of War’s cloak, using my wand as a glow stick since the house was pitch black except for a single candle flickering beside a book on a table. I looked up—thousands of stairs lined the wall, stretching into the shadows. The place was packed with artifacts, and books cluttered with plants.
War picked up a book from the table, running his fingers over the cover. “This book is made out of fairy wings,” he said.
War opened it, frowning. “The pages are charred flesh.”
“Sheesh, and they say we’re demonic,” Grim muttered.
“I thought all dark magic was demonic,” I said, and War grilled me.
“You still have a lot to learn, Lor Pussy Fairy. Dark magic is magic reinforced to cast ancient spells that are forbidden. Demonic magic is when you make pacts or summon demons. We might be wicked, but we still speak to our ancestors from a spiritual realm and not those who are in hell,” War said.
“When all of this is over, maybe you should teach the others in Charmden. The few who aren’t in Hoax’s army,” I suggested.
“Yeah right,” War replied.
“Instead of us breeding with human women, we should be breeding with fairies,” Grim said, searching the floor for an opening to Hoax’s secret passage.
“For a muthafucka who was anti-fairy pussy, you sure have been having a change of heart lately,” War told him.
“I never denied they were beautiful creatures, but females’ presence brings out a different side in me. Like having a fucked up day at training, then you come across a vase of unique flowers that smells good—it takes your mind off things. I’m going to have one of my own,” Grim said.
“We’re not sex toys, Grim,” I told him, rolling my eyes.
“No, y’all are better,” he replied, as I looked around.
“What does that even mean anyway?” I asked, spotting a pot of mushrooms with sharp teeth. When I reached out, it snapped at me.
“War, you answer that,” Grim said.
“It means a warrior who is strong-willed can capture you, and discipline your pussy to please him. He owns your pussy and it’s his—nobody else can come close to it. A weak warrior isn’t skilled for that kind of trophy. You’re like a pure succubus—made to tempt and satisfy, but only a real man can handle you and claim you for himself,” War explained.
War came over to me, his body brushing against mine, making my center tingle. Our sexual tension was thicker than the book piles Hoax had stacked inside his home. War grabbed a mushroom and choked the life out of it, then moved the pot aside. A slight breeze came from a crack in the wall, leading to the floor. He was ready to move another book pile when glass shattered upstairs.
Grim reacted instantly, scaling the wall with ghostlike speed, his shadow flickering and stretching behind him. My wandtwisted in my grip, morphing into a sword just as books tumbled from the shelves, crashing to the floor in a storm of paper and wood. Seconds later, Grim landed on his feet, clutching a tiny, thrashing fairy in his fist. She kicked and swung at him, wild and furious, her wings pounding the air in a blur.
