What the actual fuck. Every charming thing she thought about that dragon? Done. She was pissed off.
"I can hear you glaring at my back. Impressive range on that," Kael called over his shoulder.
Watching everything while being completely immobilized is the kind of situation that makes sane people start yelling at their own limbs.
Guinevere Lunaris was right there.
She was frozen behind the stone rafter, her muscles stuck in a rigid, uncomfortable pose that she could not override, while he positioned himself between incoming Dark Fae. All she could do was watch his back while he fought.
"Brothers, pin the vessel down. Spread her. Let the eldest have first—"
"Nope." Kael's blade went through its throat. "Nope to all of that."
"She will scream our names as we plant the dark seed in her—"
"She doesn't know your names. Neither do I. Let's keep it that way." Swing. Drop. Done.
He glanced back at her and winked. She wanted to scream. "How's the rafter, honey? Comfortable? Good."
