How to Save a Fae (Heir of Dragons Book 2)

How to Save a Fae


Heir of Dragons Book 1


J.A. Culican


Copyright © 2021 by J.A. Culican
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.


Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Glossary of Creatures
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by J.A. Culican


Chapter 1
Her arms had grown tired from working the bow.
Day in and day out, the threat would rear its head. They won close victories, it was true—and for a time, they'd fool themselves into believing peace was on the horizon. But with each successive battle, the Fae incurred greater losses. A swordsman here, a fellow archer there... There seemed no end to the invaders, and eventually Minx knew there'd be no one left to fight alongside her.
Peace was now a distant memory.
Still, it was not a time for brooding. She stood atop the walls of the Pandling Grounds Trading Center with a handful of other Fae archers, bow drawn and eye tracing the route of a rampaging Plurn. The maniac warrior, armed with a hammer and stomping across the field with his fangs bared, intended to enter the gate and wreak havoc. If he found the way barred, he would, like so many before him, resort to bashing the stone walls with his sledge in the hopes of toppling the Trade Center's defenses and making things easier for those who came next. These wild attackers utilized the same reckless tactics without the least concern for their own safety. Like insects joined by the same hive mind, the remnants of the dark army were all too happy to sacrifice a few of their own in order to achieve victory. The cost of said victory didn't appear to be a consideration.
Minx's gaze kept pace with his charge, and slowly exhaling she let her shot fly, the arrow arcing downward and sinking into the Plurn's chest. The warrior crashed to the ground at once, the hammer falling from his grasp and landing near the swords and other weapons his dead allies had earlier left behind. He writhed there a moment, cursing the archers with his final gasps and perished with his eyes fixed on the gunmetal skies overhead. The entire episode had played out within less than a minute—from the initial nocking of the arrow to the ruffian's final stirrings.
She lowered the bow, sighed and looked out across the field, preparing to start the process all over again. There wasn't enough time to celebrate even these small victories; recent experience had taught her that where one such marauder appeared, another twenty or thirty were never far behind.
“Nice shot,” offered one of the other archers. He was one of the younger ones—a good shot on the range, but lacking confidence in the face of a living, breathing enemy. The vast majority of the Fae were in exactly his position. Not since the times of the Great Dragon Wars had her people faced a threat of this kind. “How many is that today, Dragon Hunter?”
She cringed at being so addressed—not the least because any talk of dragons roused painful memories in her. “Fifteen... maybe twenty,” she muttered, pulling another arrow from her quiver. “Keep your eye on the field,” she warned. “More will be on the way.”
Noting her gruffness, the other archer snapped to attention and began canvassing the distance for new targets.
Only a short while ago, this had been the site of a tremendous battle. It had been here that the Fae, along with the dragons of the Talon Range guard, had turned back the dark army led by Valry of the Wuff and Torrent, an enigmatic mage with terrifying skills in the dark arts. Despite all odds, the Fae had been victorious thanks to a late intervention on the part of the Talon Range Guard. The field remained peppered with large ditches created by erupting fireballs, and the soil still reeked with the scent of flame. That victory had been among the happiest moments of her life. Her people had been saved, and the Fae and the dragons had worked together after countless years of strife, seeming ready for reconciliation.
And Kaleb had been with her, too.
She had only to think about the young dragon shifter to throw herself into a frenzy of irritation and anxiety. Their acquaintance had been brief, but their days on the road had seen them become close allies. They had begun as enemies, only to reluctantly join forces and find that they were, in fact, capable partners. Toward the end, after all they'd been through, certain romantic feelings had begun to stir between the two of them.
Or, at least, it had seemed that way. Now, so many weeks since their parting, Minx could no longer be sure that Kaleb had ever cared about her. Thoughts of him were likelier to inspire sadness and despair than their prior warmth.
Most nights, when drifting to sleep, she would revisit that final moment they'd shared, in the glade. The memory of Kaleb's kiss still lived on her lips, and she remembered his assurances of future visits, of a reunion. Unfortunately, since that day, Minx had seen neither hide nor hair of the dragon shifter. In those moments when she was not on combat duty, patrolling the territory for waves of rogue attackers, she found herself descending into total bitterness.
I wonder how he's doing... she wondered as she strode across the cobblestones, bow held low. Will he return soon? Does he even want to come back and see me? I wonder if he's even thought about me since he left...
Down below, pacing near the entrance gate, was her Faelyr companion,