Page 118 of Fang & Fury

It was the obvious place to look for the tattoo.

Gregor fought them, bucking against Cailean and Alar as they pinned him in the mud.

A few feet away, both Niall and Maol drew back further still, weapons raised. Niall’s gaze narrowed. He didn’t understand what they were doing.

Heat flared under Darach’s ribs as he moved up to get a closer look. His brother would find out soon enough.

Bree ripped open Gregor’s vest.

Snarling a curse at her, he spat in her face, yet she ignored him. “Not his chest. Turn him over.”

Gregor’s expression changed then.

Earlier, he’d been defiant—now, he understood what they were after.

Captain Tae joined the others, and it took all three men to roll the druid over. Even injured, Gregor was hard to subdue.

Cailean then placed a knee on the back of his neck while Alar sat on his legs, and Tae pinned his arms.

“Found it!” Bree grunted.

Darach moved closer still, his gaze going to the huge tattoo that covered Gregor’s back.

This was the master tattoo. It made the one Niall bore on his inner arm look pitiful.

The sigil was the same—a knot of briar at the center and eight lines radiating outward like a web, with a hooked barb at the end of each—however, everything else about it was different.

The tattoo pulsed, each line as black as tar, with silver bleeding out from the edges.

“Who tattooed this mark?” Alar demanded then, his voice hard.

Gregor merely cursed, still fighting them. Sweat poured down his face now. His dark eyes were wild.

Darach stilled. Alar’s question was a valid one. Gregor couldn’t have tattooed himself. Someone else had done this—someone who was complicit in his plans.

“What’s your game?” Kayla demanded. Gregor cursed, struggling harder. “Were you planning to do away with Niall and take the title of High King for yourself?”

The druid refused to answer.

It was clear he wasn’t going to give up his secrets.

“Right, can we kill him now?” Bree’s fingers tightened around her knife hilt. She glared down at Gregor, features taut. “I’ve waited a long time for this.”

“Aye.” Cailean whipped out a blade from the belt strapped across his chest. “So have I.”

Next to him, Alar drew both his twin blades. He too looked as if he was about to pounce.

Gregor lifted his head from the mud and tried to twist around. “Fuck you, Shee bitch,” he snarled as Bree placed her knee on the small of his back. He bucked and writhed, his struggles becoming frenzied now. “Fuck you all.”

Bree merely smiled, leaning in.

“No.” Kayla’s voice intruded, hard and sharp. “Let me have him.”

Bree stiffened before she cast her a narrow-eyed look. “But—”

“It’s personal.”

Bree lifted her chin. “It is for me too.”