Fangs and Fur- Beta Read Along
All rights reserved. Copyright © 2025 by LA Magill. All distribution rights reserved for the exclusive use of Wicked Women LLC.
Dili scrubbed her body and rinsed her dress as quickly as she could, given her distraction. The sodden fabric tugged at her skin as she yanked it back on, but there was no time for drying, let alone a proper washing.
After she was fully clothed again, she took the time to soap her short hair. It felt incredible to rub the grime from her scalp. Satisfaction filled her at seeing the dirty water flow away downstream. She massaged oil into her roots and was combing her hair into an orderly part when she smelled a hint of sandalwood and vanilla.
“There you are.”
Dili’s mouth went dry at the smooth, deep voice murmuring behind her. She was profoundly grateful she’d been so quick to put her dress back on. The vampire was early. The witch tucked the comb back into her right pocket as she fixed her expression, aiming for cool and collected, before turning to him.
Hadrian, though still far too thin, glowed like a jewel in the night. His eyes burned like emeralds against his skin. His hair sparkled like a silver waterfall cascading from his head. The long strands fell down his back and chest and over his slight arms, bared in the sleeveless tunic he wore. A matching set of loose-fitting pants, tied at the waist with a leather belt, and a pair of brown leather boots covered the rest of him.
Dili had taken no note of the garments she’d flung at him, but she couldn’t have picked a better shade of green if she’d tried. The hue complemented his eyes without washing out his pale skin, and the fine embroidery around the neckline and hem looked elegant on his wiry frame.
“You clean up well,” she said.
The witch had kept her tone light, but she flushed when her eyes met his. Along with his arrogant gaze, an infuriating quirk pulled up at the corners of his mouth. That smug look suggested he knew exactly what daydreams had distracted her while bathing.
“Only because you gave me so many options to choose from. I wrapped the rest up in one of the many cloaks you offered,” he said gleefully.
That was when Dili noticed the large pile lying on the ground behind the vampire. Lumps and bumps rumpled the dark fabric, but the chaos seemed contained. She eyed the evidence of her overreaction, watching Hadrian’s grin grow wider and wider in her periphery. She cleared her throat before he could say anything more to make it worse.
“Glad you found what you needed,” she said.
“And more.” He sounded like he was practically purring. “There was plenty that would have been stunning on you.”
Dili kept her tone carefully flat. “I see the bath did nothing to wash that ego away.”
“Would you want me any other way?” Hadrian’s tone was teasing, but the words held a gravitas that drew Dili in.
An honest answer caught in her throat. Instead of responding to his baiting comment, she tucked her chin down and moved toward the pile, giving him a wide berth. She yanked the cloak-turned-sack up by the collar and started shoving it into her right pocket. She’d sort it later when she had more time.
Hadrian didn’t interrupt her busy work, but the moment the last fistful of stuffed cloak had been stored, he stepped close. Gentle hands took her by the shoulders.
“Before we go…” His voice trailed off as he looked into her eyes.
She gave a single nod.
“… I know you’ll find Naddahdat. But when we do, you must let me handle her,” he said. “She cannot freely consent if you try to influence her.”
Dili stammered. “O-of course. I won’t interfere.”
Hadrian hesitated, then he released her. “Thank you. I’m ready. What do you need me to do?”
***
The rushing sensation of space and time folding around them spilled them out onto mud under a breathtaking sunset. Purple and orange splashed across a darkening sky. The vivid colors painted rippling water that stretched as far as she could see. Though the Nile should have been noisy with the bellows of crocodiles and the hum of insects, the only sound that carried over the lapping water was a pained cry.
Naddahdat wept at the water’s edge, facing away from them. Golden silks billowed about her body, clasped at her shoulders with black ornaments, but the fine fabric didn’t glow with Gaia’s magic, just the last rays of sunlight. Mud streaked the backs of her tanned arms and matted in her long, dark hair. A band of smooth black metal wreathed her head, and though Dili couldn’t see it, she knew that tiny scales detailed the crown.
Tension filled the air that Hadrian would not break, though he cast a questioning look at Dili. She squeezed his hand gently before letting go and stepping forward. She cleared her throat, and the half-siren turned to face her slowly.
It was not the same memory as the one where Dili had used Naddahdat’s power to revive Hadrian. It was centuries later, and so Naddahdat looked centuries older. The scales on her body had sunk under human skin. Only a lingering glimmer adorned the backs of her knuckles and the curve of her shoulders, visible only where the mud hadn’t caked onto her skin. Her cheeks still held a hint of childish softness, but the rest of her face had grown into elegant lines and alluring features.
The half-siren peered at Dili, her dark eyes dull, then she looked past Dili’s shoulder, frowning when she noted Hadrian. She looked back to Dili with her jaw jutting out defensively.
“Why have you come, my lady?” the half-siren murmured. Her voice sounded haggard.
“I came to pay my respects,” Dili said solemnly, the words of the ancient language rolling off her tongue.
The half-siren’s eyes hardened, and she sniffed. “Then you came to the wrong place. My father took my mother to rest with him.”
A sense of warmth filled Dili, nostalgia pushing the emotion forward. She took another two steps toward the half-siren and embraced the other woman. Naddahdat stiffened as Dili’s arms wrapped around her, but she did not dare pull away. When Dili finally let her go, she stared into the half-siren’s eyes.
“The lord of the sea may have returned her body to the deep, but her heart remains here, crying on the river bank she so dearly loved.”
Naddahdat’s eyes brightened with fresh tears, but the half-siren did not reach for Dili again as she had in memory. Then, the half-siren’s grief had crumpled her composure. Naddahdat had cried into Dili’s arms until the night had gone cold. It had been one of the few times the witch saw the younger paranormal as the woman she truly was, her mourning stripping layers of avarice and pride to reveal fear and loneliness.
Now, Naddahdat threw a suspicious glance toward Hadrian. She clenched fists at her sides and rolled her shoulders back, standing firm in front of the stranger she could clearly perceive rather than breaking down in private with a trusted elder.
“Who follows you, my lady?” Naddahdat asked.
“A friend,” Dili said. “A friend who needs your help, even though you are yet hurting.”
Naddahdat’s eyes shifted to stare over Dili’s shoulder. She lifted her chin and spoke down her nose to him.
“I bid you welcome.”
Naddahdat’s imperious tone and stern frown belied the greeting, but Hadrian was not deterred. He strode forward with one long step and held out his hand. The half-siren couldn’t help staring down at his outstretched palm, perplexed by the gesture.
“It is a greeting from my homeland far to the north,” Hadrian said fluently in the same ancient tongue.
Dili was surprised that Hadrian’s accent sounded so natural, and Naddahdat clearly did, too. Her frosty demeanor melted with a small smile.
“You say you are far from home, yet you sound like you have returned to it. What is your name, vampire?”
“Hadrian, my lady,” he said.
Then, the vampire reached for Naddahdat’s hand. The half-siren glared at his audacity, but she did not pull back as he took her hand in his and shook gently.
“I would greet my countrymen this way,” he said. “And I would pay homage to one of such power thus.”
Then, to Naddahdat’s obvious delight, Hadrian bent down on one knee and bowed his head. He kissed the back of her knuckles, a quick grazing of skin, both chaste and gallant.
Dili could have rolled her eyes at how Naddahdat relished the token of respect. Her eyes gleamed, her cheeks flushed, and her lips curved, even though Hadrian’s lips had barely brushed her skin. He had already righted himself and taken a step back to stand just behind Dili’s left shoulder.
“Pray, Hadrian, have we met before?” Naddahdat asked. “I have the strangest sensation that this is not the first time you’ve greeted me so.”
“Perhaps we met in another life,” he said smoothly.
Though Hadrian’s tone was light and casual, the cadence of his words pricked at Dili’s ears. The words rang louder when Naddahdat’s smile grew, and she looked him up and down.
“To feed from my veins is a divine gift. I would be a fool to offer it freely.”
Next chapter on Friday, January 30.