Page 57 of Claimed By the Fae Lord

Aeryn at least had the decency to look somewhat chagrined. Astrid still wore a slight scowl.

Once they were inside, I closed the door. Slowly. When I turned, I decided to get it over with.

"Last night," I started, the words stumbling out, "Liam and I, we had an … argument."

"Argument?" Mirrelle raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with incredulity at the understatement. “I almost stabbed him at the dinner table for the shit he said.”

“I’m talking about after dinner. He came here when he left the dining room.”

"You had more than an argument. He was quite disheveled when I passed him in the main corridor later that night," Astrid interjected with a meaningful look.

A sound, hollow as an empty scabbard, escaped me. "We fought with words and then we …" I trailed off, searching for an appropriate term.

“Hate-fucked.”

Aeryn slapped Mirrelle’s arm. “Don’t say it like that.”

“It’s an apt term for what occurred,” I stated blandly, which earned me a look of horror from the future queen.

“What? It’s what happened. Liam spoke to me contemptuously during dinner so I left. Not long after, he came here. We verbally sparred and then he took me against the wall. The second it was over, he decided it was a mistake and went on his way.”

Aeryn frowned slightly. "Raina, you're talking about it as if you're discussing the weather.”

“What were you expecting?”

Her hands flew up in irritation. “I don’t know. More emotion? Yelling? Some tears, maybe?”

I hefted the pack up onto the bed, in order to continue talking without having to make eye contact. “That was always his complaint, as well. That I could never bare my soul the way he wanted, didn’t act out when my parents ruined us."

“You’re not an overly emotional being. It doesn’t mean you don’t have feelings, that you cannot be hurt,” Astrid emphasized.

I glanced at the light fae. In this, we had always been similar. Yet I wondered if she actually felt things as deeply as I and was just better at hiding it.

“You’re not feeling much inwardly, either,” she assessed. “Your aura isn’t its normal color or shape.”

Light fae were good at reading auras, which was an inconvenient talent for a friend to have right now. “Astrid, that’s the second time you’ve brought it up.”

“But it’s the first time I’ve seen these swirls and bulges in it. You’ve had some degree of muddiness—”

I grimaced.

“—for the past year, but now your solar colors are nearly nonexistent.”

“Perhaps something inside me has finally broken completely. Or maybe," I continued, picking up the compact spear, "this is some sort of self-preservation."

"Dammit, Raina," Mirrelle muttered, stepping closer.

Her hand reached out, but she stopped short of touching me. "I want you to be safe, but I don’t want you to go to Ephandor. You need to put yourself first for once. Your mental health is as important as your physical safety. Being around him isn’t good for you, not when he’s being a prick at every turn."

I sighed, meeting her gaze squarely, "Your concern means a lot, more than you probably know. But this isn't just about me. We don’t know how many are bound to the deal and will be coming after me. We don’t know how many are still working against the royal family which,” I lifted my chin to indicate Aeryn, “isn’t just the Skullbrook line any longer.”

I slid an arm through one of the backpack’s straps, hoisting it onto my shoulder. "Besides, since when have I ever done anything solely for myself?"

"Since now, I hope," Mirrelle replied firmly.

"Hope is a luxury I’ve never been able to afford," I said quietly, sliding my other arm through the opposite strap.

"I agree with Mirrelle," Aeryn said, her voice firm. “I’m not sure Ephandor is the best place.”

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