Page 152 of Sunsplitter

His grin came wicked. He held a hand above her belly, black claws curled.

“And why wouldn’t you be terrified?” he growled. “A soft little hare, so easy to devour?”

Fi swooned harder, cheek pressed to his chest. “Mercy, cruelbeast. My savior aedari have promised to rescue me from your foul fangs.”

He laughed, breaking the act to press his forehead to hers. Fi savored the moment. Clung to it. A feeling like threads finally mending.

Next in the story came the combat. Fi ceded the floor to Ixli, who tackled the details of their ambush with militant efficiency. And startling modesty. Words alone couldn’t capture how Ixli had fought like a storm, an unrelenting typhoon of flashing spear, striking and parrying as if she were made of wind.

Fi’s tipsy revelation of the night: she understood why Antal had fucked Ixli. If Fi were single, she’d be tempted herself.

Now, as Fi was no longer on the market for fucking, she’d settle for making this daeyari a friend. Another alliance that would only be a problem for Antal. All positives, really.

Ixli was generous, too. She included Fi in the battle, her scheme to plant the transport stone. How they’d worked together to bring the aedari down.

Avroz reclined on a pillow, expression unreadable, tracing a claw around the rim of his glass. Let him pout like a damp cat. Tonight, Fi was untouchable.

When Ixli finished, they all filled glasses and toasted again. Fi drank again.

Each shot brought her a pleasant buzz, the edge of tipsy but nothing more. It was becoming clear, however, the daeyari were more affected. Ixli and Syvr leaned back on their cushions, tails languid, grinning like children. Antal’s eyes softened, his weight heavy against Fi’s side, laughing too hard when Ixli teased him about finally fighting with daggers.

Fi was having a marvelous time.

Especially when the conversation turned to… talking. No more aedari. No peril. Ixli regaled them with a story of trackinga derived daeyari across a Plane of purple sand. Syvr teased a tale of Antal’s teething phase, Antal groaning and threatening to push them into the Void.

“A long five years,” Yme observed mildly, taking her drink in small sips. “We lost so much furniture.”

Antal groaned louder.

Someone filled Fi’s glass again. She drank carelessly as she laughed, dribbling gold down her chin. She lifted a hand to wipe it.

Antal caught her wrist. Her heart fluttered as he leaned close—thunderedat the brush of his tongue, long and rough across her chin, her lips, licking her clean. His eyes hung lidded, glassy from drink, but focused on her. Fi knew that look. That desire.

He leaned closer. A soft nip to her chin sent a jolt through her, stunned at his boldness. Fi had never been one for public exhibition. This was a subtler thing, a silent question between them as the others talked.

She preened a little, to have him claim her so brazenly.

Her reply came equally discreet, a tiny bite to his jaw. Antal growled so low, she felt it more than heard it.

“So, which one of you is the top?”

Syvr sprawled on their back, head propped on one arm to lift their antlers, inspecting Fi and Antal with an upside-down smirk.

Ixli’s tail swatted them. Her grin stayed playful. “Syvr, don’t be crass.”

“What? It’s not obvious, right?Surprisingly.”

Antal opened his mouth to speak.

“It depends on what I feel like,” Fi answered for him, donning an imperious air.

Antal growled at her, baring his fangs.

“Ohhush, daeyari.” She pressed a commanding finger to his mouth. Like a good beast, he quieted to a scowl.

Syvr cackled.

“Good woman,” they said. “Look, this human fights like a daeyari. Inevery sense.”