I tried not to tense, which wasn’t easy since my dragon side shrieked at me to protect my mate. This mate business was ridiculous if you asked me. Yet, I couldn’t deny the pull Quinn had on me—and not just my dragon side.

Heavy footfalls approached. I propped my elbow on the bar and swiveled my chair slowly to meet the danger head on. An enormous, ugly giant towered over us. His—er, no, her—jaw was slack and her tiny eyes gleamed in the dull light.

“Krofom,” she said to the barkeep, “these two is a little runty to join Burningwood’s zombie army, doncha think? ’Course, giants ain’t dumb enough to venture into Rottingvale Quagmire. Didn’t think dragons was neither, but maybe it’s the fairy blood. Makes one reckless.” She tapped my forehead to demonstrate how brainless she thought I was.

Quinn quivered by my side, a dagger appearing in his hand. It would be too small to make much of a dent in a giant’s thick hide. The fact he owned it at all was rather shocking, though he was full of surprises. He bounded to his feet, standing on the stool. Even so, the giant towered over him.

I remained sitting. The giant ignored him.

“Can dragons even become zombies?” I asked to no one in particular.

The giant tilted her huge head, looked between the barkeep and me. “Dunno, really. Suspect so. Centaurs, leprechauns, fairies, minotaurs, serpents”—she ticked these off on her meaty fingers,”—“fae, goblins, and witches has all fallen to Burningwood’s magic. And you is part fairy.” She shrugged like I should have considered this.

“Yeah, but my dragon’s dominant,” I said. “What about giants?”

“Can we? Sure. Like I said, we ain’t dumb enough to try, though.”

“You aren’t worried she’ll send her army to attack this outpost?”

“Nah. Her reach ain’t this far yet. She’s had to poison the trees first and we got lots of wards on this area.”

“She’ll get here eventually.”

“Maybe. But not today.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

The giant smiled, her rotten teeth resembling nothing so much as ill kept tombstones.

“But that ain’t today, is it?”

“Guess not.”

“’Sides, you’re going to rid the forest of her, ain’t you?” The cyclops chuckled at the giant’s words. Quinn stiffened at the taunt.

“Fuck—”

“Could be,” I broke in before Quinn started trouble. He glared at me. The giant’s smile broadened.

“Nice little human you got there. Sure you want to hand him over to Burningwood? Even if you got protection, he sure ain’t got none.”

I growled deep in my throat. “I’m not handing him over to anyone.” He’s mine, a voice in my head screamed.

Quinn twirled the knife in his hand, drawing both my and the giant’s gaze. “I’m not exactly helpless,” he snarled.

My chest puffed with pride at his fearlessness. I also groaned internally that I would fall for an idiot who would challenge a giant with what amounted to a toothpick. Apparently, you could be book smart without having a lick of common sense.

The giant chortled, reached out and plucked Quinn up by the scruff of his neck, his tunic caught between the giant’s two large fingers. She hefted Quinn until they were at eye level to each other. Quinn swung his dagger, and generally twirled uselessly in the air.

I stayed still. The effort cost me, but Quinn’s life could very well depend on my next actions.

“Well, ain’t you a live one? What’s your name, little man?”

“None of your damn business!” Quinn took another swipe at the giant’s nose. He dangled just a couple inches too far to reach. For the best, really.

“He’s Quinn Broomsparkle. I’m Twig Starfig.”

“Know who you is. Ain’t any more dragon-fairy mixes I never heard of before.”

“I’m famous. How flattering.”

“You is.” She nodded. “You done a good deed for a cousin of mine. Most creatures think ’cause we big, we ain’t got no brains nor no feelings. My cousin, he ain’t a fighter and you helped him. So, I likes you, Twig. You’s alright.” She set Quinn back on his stool and patted him on top of the head. Quinn collapsed under the weight. “Oops. Sorry. I hope I ain’t damaged your pet. He’s a cute little fella.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” I eyed Quinn to make sure he was okay. Quinn’s face flamed bright red and he looked like he wanted nothing more than to tackle the giant. Yep, nothing hurt except his pride. Which was surprisingly formidable. Not that I blamed him. I didn’t take shit from anyone either.

The giant pulled up a stool. “I’m Judag. Nice to meet you. We ain’t received visitors since a month back. Couple orcs who decided to go after Burningwood, just like you. Guessing they make some good zombies. Prob’ly ain’t much difference, you know what I mean?” She guffawed.

I stuck my hand out and she slid one finger into my grip. We shook. I turned to Krofom. “Barkeep, a drink for my new friend here.”

The cyclops nodded and passed a teacup the size of my head to Judag.

“’Preciate it, Twig. A giant gets thirsty.” Her pinky shot into the air as she raised her cup to drink. The slurping ruined the effect. Drinking the cup until she’d drained every last drop, she set it carefully on the counter. Using the back of her hand, she then wiped her mouth. A large belch followed. “Good stuff.”

“Glad you enjoyed.”

“You really gonna challenge Burningwood?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“You ain’t struck me as the type to chase after glory.” She shrugged as if to say she could be wrong.

“Nah, not glory. She’s got something belonging to someone else, and I’ve been hired to get it back.”

Judag scratched her head. A large branch fell out and crashed down next to Quinn. Quinn ducked and cursed under his breath.

“Sorry ’bout that, little man. I ain’t used to spending time around you tiny folk.”

“I’m not tiny,” he groused, but without any heat behind it.

“He’s a moody one, ain’t he?” Judag tilted her head to better study Quinn.

“I’m right here,” Quinn crossed his arms over his chest. “You could try talking to me. I’m able to talk, and think, and”—he gasped—“state my own opinions.”

“Uh, sorry there, little man—”

“Quinn—”

“I just didn’t think you was allowed to speak without your master’s permission. That’s all.”

“It’s complicated,” I said. “Maybe if you pretend he’s a wizard?”

“Ah, okay. Is he?” The giant examined Quinn’s pink, sparkly collar.

Quinn shut his eyes and clapped his hands together like he was trying not to choke the life out of the giant. This was a side I only saw of Quinn in private. I suppose if I’d activated the anti-resistor clause like he said, he’d have to curb his tongue at least somewhat. I liked him like this, though. Puppets were never my thing.

“Ask him,” I finally said.

“You a witch?” the giant asked, lowering her face to better see Quinn.

“No,” Quinn bit off.

“Don’t believe it. You got the attitude of a witch.”

“Witches don’t have dicks.”

The giant’s beady little eyes widened and then she bellowed, a big belly laugh that almost blew Quinn off his stool.

“Witches don’t have dicks! You hear this tiny human?” She called to the other patrons. She laughed harder and we heard the others join in. Fat tears rolled down Judag’s cheeks. “I think I might like you even better than Twig.”

“I’m so relieved. My life is complete now.”

“Twig, is all human males like him? If so, I gotta start going to the Hominus Realm. He’s funny.”

“No, I’d say he’s one of a kind.” I smiled fondly at Quinn. He didn’t smile back.

“Have you heard much about Burningwood?” Quinn asked. “Anything that might help us?”

“You sure you set on going, teeny witch? She ain’t right.” Judag tapped her head. “She ain’t known for showing mercy, neither.”

“I’m not a witch—”

“We’re going,” I said.

“She have a manor house in the middle of the Quagmire. You prob’ly won’t make it there, ’cause of all the zombies. They guard that swamp like you ain’t never seen. Come up from the ground.” The giant shivered. “Don’t like ’em. Unnatural creatures.”

“Any way to stop them?”

“Don’t rightly know.” Judag scratched her ear. “Nah, that ain’t exactly true. Fire. Those things burn like dry wood. Only problem, that’s hard to do in a swamp. Always lots of mist. A dismal a place as you is likely to see.”

“So you’ve been?”

“Oh, yeah, once I been. Wanted to see it for myself.” She leaned in close until her rancid breath made me want to take a step back. I stood my ground because it would be rude and as I was on the bar stool, I’d be in for a hard landing if I moved away. “I’m not the smartest of the bunch here. Likes to see things for myself.” She winked.

“I haven’t been,” Krofom chimed in. “But I’ve seen it in visions.” He shuddered. “Many travelers pass through with the idea of besting Burningwood. But none ever come out alive.”

“There’s always a first time,” I said.

Quinn nodded his agreement.

The barkeep pressed his lips into a fine line, then moved down the bar and turned his back to us. He began polishing glasses.

“Don’t mind him none. Seeing the future are unnerving. Pain to always know something and not been able to change how it come out.”

“Did he see something then?” I asked. Not sure why, since if we were going to be zombie fodder, I’d rather not know in advance.

“Dunno. You’d has to ask him, I suppose. Wouldn’t want to know, if it were me.”

“I think you’re right.”

“Happens more than you think.” She laughed.

We sipped several more rounds of tea throughout the afternoon. Judag was a surprisingly good conversationalist. We shared another meal together as Judag told us all she’d seen in Rottingvale Quagmire. After a while, I called down to where Krofom and Quinn leaned their heads together. Quinn had spent the last hour chatting with the cyclops. “Hey, barkeep, any chance you’ll give us a room?”

Before I got the words fully out of my mouth, a key the size of my forearm was hefted and tossed in my direction. I caught it and almost tumbled off the stool, but managed to stay upright. “Thanks!”

I made my excuses to Judag and Quinn said goodnight to Krofom. The room, like the rest of the building, was giant sized, so I needed to lift Quinn up to the doorknob so he could unlock and open the door. Once we were inside, we made quick work of getting ready for bed and crawled into the big bed together. A stack of romance novels lay on the bedside table. Trysprite, Little Wyvern, and A Tale of Two Flitties: 11 stories of Fairy Porn were just a few of the choice materials. Giants liked their smut.

Quinn hadn’t said much throughout the evening. Seemed to be considering some things. I debated whether to ask him, but when he kept a good couple feet distance from me on the bed, I knew something was up.

“You want to talk about it?”

He stared at the ceiling, let out a long exhale. “I hate that I’m seen as some sort of pet. Like I don’t have a brain of my own.”

I rolled over on my side so I could better see his face in the dark.

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t see you that way. And you talked to Krofom for a long time tonight. He didn’t seem like he was talking down to you. Besides, it’s not that they think you’re stupid. It’s more like they struggle to understand you’re . . .”

“A person.”

“Uh yeah, pretty much.”

“That’s even worse. Brandsome always treats me like that, so you’d think I’d be used to it. Only I’m not. I’ll never get used to it.” He glared at me in the dark.

“I’m sorry. If I could do something about it, I would.” I paused, thinking about that. I didn’t know what Brandsome paid for Quinn, but I imagined he cost a pretty penny; Quinn really was striking. Being part dragon, I’d certainly accumulated a hoard over the years and I could probably afford the outrageous price . . . and since my dragon viewed Quinn as its mate, it didn’t protest the idea the way it otherwise might. On the other hand, my dragon half also whispered it would be so much easier to just eat Brandsome. Tempting, but not practical.

Quinn reached out a hand and stroked my cheek. He sighed.

“Thank you, Twig. You’ve been nicer to me than I deserve.”

“That’s not true.” I pressed my face into his hand, relishing the heat and feel of my mate—I mean, my supposed mate—touching me.

“It is.” He smiled sadly and my heart did a little thump in my chest.

“I could offer to buy you.”

He chuckled, the sound not a happy one.

“Brandsome won’t sell me. Not even for double my price.” He bit his lip, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears.

“Why?” He’d struck me as quite the businessman. He was always in need of money according to Quinn.

Quinn stiffened, removed his hand from my face. Before I could snatch it back, he wiped his eyes.

“Because . . . because he likes having me under his thumb. He knows I hate him and it amuses him. He’ll never give me up.”

I pulled Quinn into my arms and held him tight. He didn’t cry or anything, but he did snuggle into me like he wanted to climb inside my body. I kissed the top of his head, enjoying the smell of his hair, the way he fit so naturally into the curve of my body. I didn’t believe Brandsome couldn’t be bought. He bet his horn in a card game, after all.

No, he had a price. The only question was how much, and whether I was willing to pay it.