Rage And Ruin by Grace McGinty

Author:Grace McGinty [McGinty, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-13T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Azar watched the last van load of Were mothers and children drive away from the dens with a feeling of relief and trepidation.

The Council, on the advice of Lorcan, decided that they would move their entire army into a defensible position, and wait until the Fae attacked. Separated, the different races were easy pickings for the much larger fae army, who could sift in, kill them off, and then sift out again without breaking a sweat.

However, if everyone came together as one Allied army, the Fae would have to sift in much larger, more noticeable numbers. They would lose their element of surprise, allowing the Allied army to defend. At least, that was the gist of the reasoning. Azar was no military strategist.

The dens were put forward, as the army could be housed underground, preventing sifting. Aaron had been hesitant at first, but eventually agreed on the proviso that all the women and children be moved to a safer, secure location.

It had taken three whole days to arrange the evacuation. The army would move in this afternoon. Then all that was left to do was train and wait. Every day the Fae didn’t attack frayed her nerves a little more.

She looked down at Nevyn, who stood at her side. They’d decided that sending Nevyn with the Were was too dangerous, for both him and the Were. So he’d stayed. Freya insisted that if Nevyn got to stay, so did she. Donovan had cajoled, threatened, used his parent voice, but the girl had stood fast. She would only go where Nevyn went.

Being grownups, no one had given in to the demands of the child, and they’d stuffed her in the first of the vans to leave. Azar had waved goodbye and watched Freya’s face pressed against the glass of the window as it drove away down the dirt track with relief and sadness.

It was short lived. Twenty minutes later, a distressed Were woman, whose name Azar had already forgotten, called and said Freya had jumped out of the window at a T-intersection and ran like the wind back toward the dens. Azar had sent Oliver out to find her, and he’d brought her back looking fearful, but with a stubborn set to her chin. So they’d let her stay.

Donovan had looked just as relieved, although he gave the girl the scolding of her life. The scolding of a Shaitan parent was something to behold, but Freya had just looked at him with her big, black eyes, framed with those long, sooty lashes, so like her father’s, and he’d relented. So, they’d been given strict rules and placed in the safest den room in the place.

Lorcan had volunteered to teach Freya how to wield a knife, for the direst of circumstances, and Donovan had begrudgingly agreed. Even Azar had been horrified by the fact that this was a practicality of war.

Nevyn was already well versed in the dagger and the sword. They’d given him a light short sword, and he’d gone through a set of exercises with the grace and fluidity of all the Fae.

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