Chapter 647: Nature of the Invasion
Gathrin looked at me for a long moment until my tail started to twitch anxiously. Was he still angry with me about Fyren?
"I think it would be best to continue this conversation elsewhere, " he said, then muttered under his breath, "The last thing I need is Fate upset with me again."
Fable padded close, and Gathrin extended a hand. Hesitantly, I placed mine in his, searching his face for an explanation. His massive gauntlets, easily thrice the size of my slender hand, held a surprising gentleness.
"Um, Gathrin, what are we—"
My breath caught as he pulled me close, hands settling on my waist. I let slip a startled squeak and instinctively tried to pull back, but it was too late. The ground vanished beneath my feet, and a dizzying rush of weightlessness left me perched awkwardly atop Fable’s broad back.
"A little warning next time?" I mumbled, my fingers reflexively digging into Fable’s thick fur.
"For someone so nonchalant around an eighth-level demon," Gathrin said, "you’re awfully skittish about the strangest things."
My cheeks flushed, and the tip of my tail twitched erratically.
"S-sorry," I stammered, "I just...don’t like being handled like that."
Or at all, I added silently.
"I suppose not," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Now, shall we join Rivlitt?"