“We’ve been here all night,” Hadrian said as if he hadn’t heard the insinuation about her being half-Fae. “If you have a problem with that, then you can go somewhere else.”

“They should never defile the Society halls with someone like you, leatha.”

A sharp intake of breath was heard all around Kerrigan. A buzzing filled her ears at the horrid word. It was ancient Fae language, originally meaning half-Fae, but modern connotation had made it a slur, more commonly meaning half-breed bitch. It wasn’t slung around in polite society.

Most people in this fancy tavern probably hadn’t heard it spoken aloud, except in jest. Not that Kerrigan ever found those jests funny. But Kerrigan had heard the word enough not to flinch from it.

“Creative,” she crooned. She was too tipsy for this. “I’m so glad that you don’t get a vote.”

He took a menacing step forward, but she just laughed. It was the wrong move. She had known it somewhere deep in her brain that laughing at this man would provoke him, but did he think he was frightening? She’d won the dragon tournament, and not that he knew this, but she was a prized fighter in the Wastes. He couldn’t touch her. His overconfidence was almost endearing, if not suicidal.

“I’ll give you something to laugh at,” he said and then threw his fist toward her face.

She was drunk, not incapacitated.

She fluidly slid out of his reach. Her reflexes were a half-second slower than normal, but it wasn’t like he was Prince Fordham Ollivier. Fordham was the only person besting her four out of five bouts. This was just a Fae male who thought he was better than her.

The male overcorrected for the missed punch and tried to throw another one. She caught his fist in her hand and wrenched it sideways. He cried out.

“That isn’t very nice,” she slurred slightly. “Someone should teach you some manners.”

She jerked the man forward, bringing her knee up to his face with a satisfying crunch. Then, she threw him to the ground at her feet. She could have finished it then with the adrenaline coursing through her, but Darby put a hand on her shoulder.

“Kerrigan, everyone’s watching,” she whispered.

She came back to herself then, stepping away from the man. Her hands were shaking from the fight. It had happened in a matter of seconds, and she hadn’t even needed to use her magic. But this wasn’t the kind of place that erupted into brawls. The room had quieted, and all eyes were on her. They hadn’t seen this brute attack her, but they’d sure seen her finish it. Were they seeing a Society member enacting justice? Or a half-Fae getting revenge, knowing that no one could stop her now?