His Fairy Share

by Meghan Maslow

  He swooped in as close as he dared, his flames just reaching the galleon’s main mast. It sparked and slowly caught, but only the top of the rigging. I hoped it would spread fast. The shell golem crew didn’t panic like a human crew. They moved methodically to reduce the damage. No fear, no panic. Just well-planned action.

  As we passed back over the ship, another harpoon hit Twig. This time right through a wing. He bellowed and listed to one side. I hung on as he spun. More harpoons whizzed past us, another couple lodging in his hide. Fuck!

  He righted himself over the sloop, preparing to retreat to the safety of the clouds. He couldn’t handle many more hits. His scales were already slick with blood. Screw this.

  I patted a spike, then swung off his neck and jumped. I plummeted toward the sloop’s single mast. Twig howled, and I almost expected him to follow, but that would be suicidal. The twang of launching harpoons zinged past me, and Twig roared, fury in his voice. Stubborn dragon!

  I hit the mainsail. Hard. Scrambled for purchase as I plunged toward the deck. My bracer once again saved my life, turning into a gauntlet. I stuck to the slippery material, sliding to a stop over the deck.

  I hadn’t called on the war hammer. Was it sentient? That would mean . . . no time right now. I’d freak out about that later. I had a ship to stop. The gauntlet glowed, and in the blink of an eye became the war hammer.

  Just in time.

  I swung it at a shell golem reaching for me.

  Crack!

  The golem and two more next to it, shattered. Wow. Okay, then.

  I cut a swath through the golems, shattered bits of shell littering the deck. I could swear the hammer adjusted itself in my grip, learning my fighting style. Where were the fireship’s witches? I didn’t see any on board. It must be connected to the other galleons in some way, then.

  A ball of ice arced in front of me, taking out a shell golem. It came from the starboard galleon. Damn it. I had to jinx myself. And naturally these witches understood water magic. I had the worst luck. Two more ice spheres lobbed toward me. I swung the hammer at one, and instead of shattering, it turned into icy water that drenched me.

  A roar from above. The ice stopped coming my way. Good ol’ Twig. I raced to the prow where the was nozzle mounted on a large wooden frame. A shell golem ambled my way but not quick enough. I scrambled atop the frame and brought the hammer down with all my strength. It struck the nozzle.

  Crack!

  I staggered back as the spigot crumbled and fell into the sea. Yes! Score one for #teambroomsparklestarfig.

  A harpoon whizzed over my shoulder. Another stuck next to my boot and rocked the frame enough so that I tumbled backward.

  I didn’t land gracefully. My limbs in a sprawl. The hammer tumbled from my hand. My head hit the deck with a loud thump. Owww.

  Before I could recover, a shell golem hovered over me and lifted its foot to stomp me into the deck. This was going to hurt.

  As I rolled, grabbing the war hammer, the sloop tipped back at an impossible angle sending all of us tumbling toward the port side. What in hydra’s hellfire? I hung onto the hammer with one hand and clutched the rigging, trying not to collide with the shell golems. They lay in piles, but because of their barnacle nature, started pulling themselves along the upended deck toward me. The ship tipped back farther, and tentacles slithered around the small sloop.

  The kraken had returned. With a vengeance.

  I groaned and gripped the rope tighter, pulled myself toward the mast. The war hammer merged back into my bracer, then shimmered and became the gauntlet again. I slapped my hand to the deck and dragged myself up toward the rail. One round of harpoons and other projectiles flew overhead, the galleons attempting to save the fireship while they slowly turned to flee.

  Tentacles struck out at a galleon and ripped a hole through its mighty hull. But the kraken didn’t relinquish the sloop. Instead, the sloop rose almost vertically from the water, the gauntlet the only thing keeping me from falling. I crawled until I reached the bow, now high above the sea. The sloop shot straight out of the water and the kraken’s head emerged, its beak open. Burn me, it planned to eat us whole. I scrambled to the highest point and hoped the galleons were too concerned with survival to notice me. Here went everything.

  I leapt from the prow, just as the kraken pulled the sloop into its maw. Wind rushed past as the sea rose to greet me. I closed my eyes, let myself fall.

  Twig’s talon closed around me before I hit the water, and we soared up. I pumped my fist. Yaasss! Before I could get too comfortable, he dropped me into a free fall, then sped underneath so I could settle myself on his neck.

  Snap! The monster clacked its beak, cutting straight through the sloop, the aft end sliding down its gullet. The fireship no more. Except . . .

  “Twig! Light that ship up.” Had he heard me over the splintering wood? My voice was almost gone.

  Twig plunged toward the creature and aimed a trail of fire at the remaining pieces of the ship and then directly at the kraken’s maw. Tentacles thrashed toward us. Twig dodged, then sped upward, his wings beating furiously.

  The inferno went off like a necrolight, a huge explosion of flesh and metal and wood, up and out in a huge arc. Twig’s belly took the brunt of the blast, though the heat singed my skin before we could escape. An airborne piece of tentacle almost unseated me as we continued to rise.

  Both galleons were a lost cause. Sails ablaze, bits of charred wood and metal sticking out of their hulls, their magic dimmed, then flickered out.

  Fortunately, our fleet remained out of range of the worst of the explosion, though waves rocked the ships, and one came close to capsizing.

  Taking in the remnants of the armada, it was clear we’d won the day. Only four galleons left, and two of them in full retreat.

  Not on our watch. While we left the two other galleons to our rag-tag fleet, we went after the runners. Not as heavily armed as full war galleons, they still lobbed bolas and harpoons our way. But they were no match for Twig, who torched their sails at the first opportunity. Galleons might be big, but they burned exceptionally well.

  We let the fire take its course and turned toward our fleet. Only one witch ship left and clearly outgunned. It had no hope of winning, but continued to fire harpoons and used bolas to shred our fleet’s sails. No surrender then.

  Twig came up from behind and torched the witches where they stood on deck. They hadn’t guarded their backs. The moment they fell, the magic of the ship disappeared, and the golems crumbled into harmless shells.

  The cheers that went up from our fleet were faint but enthusiastic. We circled the battle making sure the witches’ armada was truly no more.

  Twig glided down to the sea and slowly let us sink into the water. The saltwater stung my burns, and I hissed.

  “What are you doing, Twig?”

  He couldn’t answer, but dove under water, only giving me the barest second to hang on and hold my breath. When we came up, I sputtered, and he turned his head and seemed to grin at me.

  “Dammit, I could have waited on a bath.”

  He shook his head, and I laughed. “Fine. I didn’t like all the kraken guts in my hair anyway.”

  He dipped under two more times, before lifting his wings from the water and shaking them off. I patted Twig’s neck and waited for him to turn back to our ship. He rose in a lazy circle, finally moving to hover beside the Disreputable Prince. I gingerly slid from my perch to the deck, my burned feet throbbing as I touched down. Shouts went up, and crew members came running toward us. Twig growled, smoke swirling from his nostrils, his eyes going wide.

  “Don’t come any closer!” I held up a staying hand. “He’s wounded and will lash out until I get him calmed down.”

  Twig bared his fangs. The crew stopped in their tracks and then backpedaled.

  “It’s okay, dragon, I got you.”

  Twig rose slightly, placing himself within my reach, but he was too huge to land on deck. He kept his gaze on
the crew, a low rumbling in his throat. I ran a hand over his scaly hide to calm him. Grimacing, I gripped the harpoon in his chest and pulled. Smoke poured from his mouth as I removed the tip. It took all my strength.

  I couldn’t reach the one near his wing or the others. Sighing, I climbed back onto him, my legs unsteady, but adrenaline still propelling me forward. Good thing we’d had lots of practice with me moving from one end of him to the other in flight. I crouched on his shoulder, facing his wings, and gripped the other harpoon. Fucking witches. But I couldn’t pull it out. The angle was all wrong. I barely budged it. I swore. A lot.

  Twig turned his head and took the harpoon end in his teeth. I grasped the shaft, right above where it lodged in his body. I didn’t want him to damage to the muscles around his wings. He yanked, and I steadied the shaft so it moved straight out. The edge sliced my palm and I hissed. Smoke curled in large clouds around Twig’s head. Once he dropped the harpoon, he turned back to nuzzle my wounded hand, almost tossing me into the sea. I gripped a spike with my other hand.

  “Don’t worry about me, dragon.” I tore a piece from my tunic to wrap my hand and stem the bleeding. Honestly. “Let’s get the others.”

  I clambered over him, pulling as many of the offending objects from him as I could. Some harpoons had barbs and tore off chunks of flesh when I removed them. While smoke curled like crazy overhead, Twig refused to scream, a small exhale the most he’d offer.

  Every time I had to pull a barb from his skin, I focused my hatred on those witches. Glad they’d died for the pain they’d given my dragon. When I’d removed every barb, I crawled back onto his neck, hugged him tight. “Hurry and shift.”

  Once I swung back to the deck, Twig soared upward. He needed a spot to shift so he wouldn’t capsize the ship.

  My feet barely touched the deck before Zak flung himself in my arms. “You were awesome!”

  I staggered back under his weight but managed not to fall, my singed skin screaming from the contact, and a million little cuts and bruises suddenly making themselves known. “Thanks. I’m glad you’re okay, too. There were a few moments I wasn’t sure we’d get to you in time.” I squeezed him tight, only now feeling all the worry I’d pushed down so I could fight clearheaded. Suddenly I understood what Twig must feel like every time we were in danger. Seemed I had some protective instincts as well.

  “We’re good.” He leaned away and gave me the Broomsparkle grin™, then plucked at my sleeve, holding up a rubbery mess. “But, eww, you missed a piece of kraken goo.”

  I released him, looked down at myself. Oh. Yuck. Our “bath” hadn’t been as thorough as I’d believed. Though I couldn’t quite care. “I need Cookie, Twig’s hurt. Do you know where—”

  “Here.” He pulled Cookie from his tunic. The little furball chirped angrily, her pelt standing on end. Probably didn’t appreciate being smashed between us. “Captain Yardley gave her to me. Said you’d need her.”

  Cheers went up on deck. Zak and I were swept along with the rest of the crew toward the stern and one naked and exhausted-looking Twig. He staggered under the rain of backslaps, his wounds semi-healed from the shift but still in need of attention.

  “Coming through,” I called, shoving my way to my dragon, even though the jostling was excruciating on my burned skin. Still, I had to touch him.

  Twig flashed me a tired smile, his eyes soft, though pained. He captured my face in his hands and smashed our mouths together before I could do anything else.

  The Disreputable Prince’s crew might have cheered, but Twig took all my attention. My hands automatically went to his chest, and I ignored the pain of the burns, my need to touch him imperative. We probably would have continued to make out in front of the whole crew, except Cookie’s angry chirping reminded me we were squishing her again. Oops.

  Breaking the kiss, we both chuckled, and then Twig stumbled. I grabbed for him, steadying and holding him close.

  “Sorry, Cookie,” Zak cooed, scooping her from between us. I flinched when Twig stepped away, the pain of my injuries rushing back.

  A loud whistle went up, and the crew moved aside. Beckett strode forward, Pie on her shoulder. She looked worse for the wear, her step determined but obviously pained. She put out her forearm for a clasp, then winced and let her arm drop. She smiled, though it looked a little forced. “Take my cabin and get treated. We’ll be dropping anchor until we can regroup and treat injuries.”

  I wanted to argue, but one look at Twig changed my mind. He was hurt worse than he let on. I moved so he could throw an arm over my shoulder, ignoring the potential pain that would come with his weight.

  Twig didn’t hesitate, leaning in and letting me shoulder his bulk. For Twig, the ultimate sign of trust. Of love. Of respect.

  Of equals.

  If I hadn’t been in love with him before, I was irretrievably lost in him now. He smiled, tired and wan, but still a smile.

  Zak surprised me by darting next to Twig’s other side and offering Twig his shoulder. Twig paused, head tilting as he contemplated my little brother’s offer. Zak’s face fell, and he stepped away. Twig reached out, grasped his tunic and pulled him close, then looped an arm over Zak’s shoulders. Zak grunted in surprise, and, probably, from the sheer mass of the man we supported between us.

  Family—no, clan —took care of one another. The three of us maneuvered into the captain’s cabin. Twig collapsed onto the bunk, his breathing harsh.

  “Lay down on top of me.” Twig gasped, the skin around his eyes drawn tight with pain.

  “I’ll hurt you.”

  “She can heal us both this way. Hurry. I need you.” His hand extended in my direction, and like a puppet on strings, I did as he asked, pulling off my tunic so that when he tugged me down, we were chest to chest.

  I hissed, a thousand scrapes, bruises, and burns making any contact painful. He placed a gentle kiss to the top of my head and rested his fingertips on my hips. Even that hurt, but I appreciated the gesture.

  Zak set Cookie on my upper back, and she instantly broke into song. Her healing melodies always had a similar rhythm, but none was ever quite the same. The tune enveloped us, her magic swirling, and Twig’s body went lax under mine. His face smoothed out, losing the pinched look, and his arms slackened.

  A wash of cool magic over my heated skin soothed me, even as it reversed the damage from the battle. I watched Twig’s face, making sure he was resting soundly. Even dragons needed someone to look out for them. I don’t remember Cookie’s song stopping or closing my eyes, but darkness crept in around the edges.

  I let it.

  41

  I woke to a hungry kiss, my lips parting on a sigh, as Twig ravaged my mouth. I kissed him back, my body suddenly filled with a longing so powerful that if I’d been standing, I’d have sunk to my knees. I moaned into his mouth.

  Twig’s hands roamed along my back, kneading my tired muscles. They paused along my side, the scar from the cauterized wound still rough under his fingertips. I broke the kiss.

  “Still there.” I frowned. “Feels a little smaller.”

  “It is. Perhaps Cookie just needs to work on it a little at a time?”

  “Aha! So you do hate it!”

  Twig rolled his eyes. “No, it pisses me off. It’s a reminder of how I failed you.”

  “You didn’t fail me.” My mouth firmed, ready to do battle. My dragon took too much responsibility for my welfare. Hardly Twig’s fault I rushed in where even demons feared to tread.

  Instead of arguing, Twig rolled me under him and attacked my mouth again. Score one for my crafty dragon. I kissed back, biting his bottom lip and then sinking into the heat of his mouth. He groaned, and I swallowed his sounds.

  When we came up for air, he growled. “I want you. Now.”

  “Hells to the yes.” I tore at my trousers, shimmied them down my hips, and let them pool around my thighs. Twig sat up and yanked them the rest of the way off, so that we were both gloriously naked. He ran his hands from my
calves, over my knees, spreading my legs as his hands trailed upward.

  I sucked in a breath. When he glanced up, his eyes shifted to his dragon’s. It got me hot every time.

  Twig closed his lids, claws extending from his fingers, though he was careful not to prick my tender skin. His breathing went ragged. Fangs descended, and scales broke out along his arms. Holy handmaidens, was he going to shift? He’d destroy the ship.

  I gripped his chin and his eyes snapped opened, his pupils mere slits in full-on dragon mode. “Settle, dragon. This ship isn’t big enough for your bulk.” I looked down at my body. “Nor am I.”

  Twig groaned, tried to push away but I held tight to his chin.

  “My dragon wants to mate. Now. It’s never been so insistent.” Twig’s words came out garbled, his fangs fully descending.

  I surprised myself when I said, “Let’s do it.”

  Twig whined, a deep rumble in his chest. “Quinn, you’re still hurting. I want—”

  “I know what you want, dragon, and I appreciate the consideration, but today made it crystal clear—you’re the one I want to bond with. I miss our ability to communicate silently. I miss knowing how you think and feel. The bond will give us that back. And honestly, Twig, I just really, really want to be your mate. And not only in name, but in all ways. I’m ready. I swear it.”

  “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Smoke streamed from Twig’s nostrils, and scales formed and disappeared on Twig’s skin, even as his hands curved into talons.

  “Uh, I’d prefer we not sink the frigate, however. I don’t think you can fit everyone on your back, and I’d feel a little bad killing the entire crew because we wanted to have sex.”

  He laughed, and just like that, his dragon stopped pushing. He took deep breaths, retracting his claws and fangs, until only a few random scales remained.

  “Better?” I released his chin, grinning, and laying back so we could get this show on the road. I was sooo ready.

  Even if I wasn’t a wizard, I’d held my own in battle. I’d always miss my magic. But I’d learned today that I wasn’t helpless, especially with the war hammer. Why it chose me, I still couldn’t guess, but I wasn’t rejecting such a precious gift. I could pull my weight in this fight, and in our relationship. No one but me could take that away.