The Reaping (The Moondreamer Chronicles Book 2) by Tamara Mataya

Author:Tamara Mataya [Mataya, Tamara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fae, urban fantasy, the sowing, faery, selkies, tamara mataya, the reaping, draven, Moondreamer, paranormal romance
Publisher: Tamara Mataya
Published: 2017-10-03T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The front door slams shut and heavy steps come toward the kitchen. Misty and Ibor get quiet again, and Misty’s gaze flies to the sword by the door, finding potential weapons without making a move for them until she knows what’s going on—or maybe she’s reluctant to leave Ibor’s side.

Sakarias lumbers into the kitchen with a triumphant grin on his face.

I know he wants me to ask, so I should make him prance around until he gets impatient. Unfortunately, I have to know. “What?”

Draven comes in next and grabs me in a tight hug, swinging me around. “Vi Tiri kaj mi tenas.”

“La fajra danco subtenas nin.” A rush of power and love surge through me. “How did it go?”

He smiles at Sakarias, who grabs a bottle of orange juice from the fridge and gulps it down, raising his eyebrows, milking the moment.

I’d stamp my foot if it didn’t undermine my maturity. “What did you do?”

“Ashria!” Sakarias thunders at the ceiling. “You'll want to hear this!”

She steps into the room a moment later. “What is it?”

He splays his hands on the table, dramatically leaning forward. “Mission. Accomplished.”

Ashria's eyes widen. “Completely?”

Draven releases me, takes something shiny from his pocket and tosses it in the air, letting it land on the table with a sharp thunk. When it stops spinning around, I realize it's a platinum or silver ring. The split band has a large, stylized J held at the top, bottom, and middle by the three bands. It's large but delicate.

I don't understand the significance.

Ibor shudders. “Jecka's ring?”

“You've got Jecka's ring?” Misty’s voice shakes.

“Yes.” Draven smirks. “I took it from her when I killed her.”

Ibor swallows hard. “You killed Jecka?”

“With a little help from my friend.” He nods at Sakarias and turns back to Ibor. “And who might you be?”

“Ibor and Misty.” I make the introductions. “Members of the Fae army, or former members I guess would be more accurate.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

Sakarias finishes the juice. “Good to meet you. I am Sakarias.”

Ibor’s eyes widen. “Leader of the Selkies?”

“One and the same.” Sakarias holds his hands up as though to halt them. “No need to bow.”

“We learned about all of the most powerful Fae. But to actually meet you.” Ibor shakes his head, seeming a bit star-struck.

Looks like somebody's got a fan.

Sometimes I forget who Sakarias really is. He's a leader, a real king, and one of the best warriors I've ever known. But beneath the gentle teasing and our easy banter, I forget how grand he is to other people. To me he's just one of my best friends. Maybe he finds my irreverence endearing and refreshing. I’m certainly never going to bow to anyone.

Misty's gaze hasn't left the ring. High-pitched giggles sound from her throat as she slams her fist to the table, laughter turned to anger. The ring bounces in the air, and she starts cackling again.

Is she losing it? I look at Draven and shrug. His head shake is barely perceptible.

“Ibor?” I flick my gaze to Misty.

Ibor looks to Draven.

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