Page 12 of Kiss of Smoke

“You won’t go back to Emain Ablach, and none of us will force you to go. Nicnevin closed the borders to Annwyn while the Souls are on the loose, and if you’re stuck here in Avilion…so am I.” He took a deep breath, then bit his lip. It was brief, but there was something endearing about the slight hint of vulnerability. “I care for you deeply, Briallen Appletree. I care enough that I let Goodfellow make me one of his own, as long as I can stay by your side.”

My heart was galloping so fast I was afraid he’d hear it.

I couldn’t help but wonder the obvious question, even though I’d been waiting for this moment when pastry dates turned into something more.

“You won’t be unhappy outside the Hunt? I would never try to take you away from what you love.”

Gwyn gave me a crooked smile, but it faded quickly. “Sure, I love it. But I love other things more. Besides…” His grin popped back on. “I’ll still have my bike, which makes me the coolest agent.”

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly as dry as dust again. “If you really think you’d be happy with that, then I’d be…um…euphoric to get to keep you out of the Otherworld. Does euphoric sound too corny? Should I say something less excitable, like thrilled? No, that’s also kind of corny…”

He put a finger over my lips. Yep, I was rambling.

“I’m here with you,” he told me. “That’s all that matters.”

I nodded, then kissed his fingertips. “I’m glad you’re here,” I whispered.

He leaned in and rested his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes, just soaking up his warmth and presence, and the fact that I would never again have to give Gwyn back to the Wild Hunt through the nights.

After too short a time, he drew back. I had a feeling it was mostly because my stomach let out an earth-shaking rumble.

“Time to stop lounging around,” he told me, pulling the blanket back. “Let’s get some food in you.”

Food sounded amazing to me. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d eaten—I’d been running on fumes, painkillers, and the remnants of faerie liquor from the Darkest Night masque for what felt like ages.

I climbed out of bed and hauled myself into the shower. Even though there was a small sliver of me that absolutely wanted Gwyn to bust in and join me, a low-grade ache still permeated every muscle in my body, and I wasn’t up to much more than eating and absorbing everything that had happened.

Gwyn was gone from the room when I emerged with my hair bound up in a towel, and the wardrobe seemed to sense my condition, obliging me by spitting out another soft pair of pants and a thin, clingy tee shirt.

I didn’t even bother to dry my hair or apply makeup, tying the former up in a messy bun as I strode down the stairs.

Sleeping so long had also seemingly erased my memory.

I stopped on the stairs, blinking at the sight before me. I’d completely forgotten that we had more than a few guests crammed in the house now.

And by the Branches, were they a motley lot.

Oriande Snowdrop was wearing a new power suit the color of violets, her hair twisted into an almost violently tight chignon. She was scribbling frantically in a notebook, her faithful cameraman by her side at the kitchen table as they discussed something in rapid undertones.

Queen Titania sat at the head of the table, watching them with a weary expression that was unlike anything I’d ever seen on the cold queen’s face. If I hadn’t known she was the queen before, it would’ve shocked me to find out.

She was wearing baggy sweats and an oversized shirt, and fiddled with a mug before her that saidCoffee Before Talkie.

Above her loomed Noctifer, still in his armor. I wondered if my father ever felt secure enough to take it off, or if he was perpetually forced to live in it.

I quietly stepped down the last stair and tried to sneak into the kitchen, but everyone’s eyes snapped to me. I cringed a little and raised a hand, wondering what the protocol was when the Seelie Queen was sitting at the table in sweatpants. “Good morning, your Majesty and…everyone else.”

Titania nodded to me, but Oriande straightened up immediately. “Briallen Appletree! I was just speaking to Oak about when we could schedule an exclusive interview—‘Murder on Darkest Night’. We’re thinking an hour-long special with insider interviews sprinkled throughout—”

“By the thorns, woman,” Noctifer snapped. “Let her wake up and eat before you drag her in front of a camera.”

I had zero intention of ever being in front of said camera, but I appreciated the thought nonetheless. I smiled at my father as I headed to the stove, where a carafe of coffee was bubbling. “Is anyone hungry? I was thinking of making some pancakes.”

Titania shrugged, her lips turning down at the corners. “Pancakes do sound rather delightful.”

Gwyn stepped into the kitchen behind me as I poured myself a cup of coffee and liberally laced it with sugar and cream. “You’re not doing the cooking, Bananas.”

I gently elbowed him in the side and smiled up at him. “Sure I am. I need to do something or I’ll go crazy.”

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