Page 98 of Between Fear and Favor

“Is that Olly’s horse?” I asked, instead of answering him, glancing at the animal being led to the stable.

“Of course his name is Olly,” Cy murmured. “That little cur couldn’t have a respectable name, could he?”

I fought the twist of my lips. Cyran’s hostility toward the caretaker’s son, too young to be a threat to anyone or anything, was quite comical.

“It’s Oliver. You’d know that if you paid him any attention.”

“You shouldn’t feed stray cats, Elora. You know this, right?”

“I thought he was a cur, not a cat,” I countered, and he ignored me.

“If you feed a stray, it will follow you everywhere. If I pay him attention, he will think I like him.”

“Are you a stray cat, then?” I asked, all innocence. I stood with my hands behind my back, rocking on my heels. “Was my note to you like a little treat, making you follow me here despite the fact I left to get away from you?”

I allowed Thyra’s raucous laughter as she played with the twin dragons, Wen and Den, to distract me from the color draining from Cy’s face. I’d hurt him.

Traekka had laid down in the fountain. Too large to fit entirely, she lounged, keeping her wings up and dry. I’d missed them. Each of them had such unique personalities, but Shika brought me the most comfort. Mama had created her from a horrifying memory involving me, and the beautiful beast seemed to want to make sure I was all right because of it.

“I came to tell you I’m sorry,” Cy said in a quiet voice.

“Whatever for?” I asked.

He blinked at me, taken aback. I’d been hurt and petulant about it, but I didn’t think I had the right to demand an apology from him for what he’d said. Leaving Crown Cottage had only been a means of escaping the heavy weight of his logic. If he caused me to abandon my anger, what would I have left?

“I think it might be easier if you asked me what I shouldn’t apologize for,” he said, but before I could react, Shika growled.

Lunging for him, the dragon bared her teeth, rising to her full height. It startled me, and I moved between them. Of course, she’d hate Cy for what he’d done. His betrayal had been her inception, and it was dangerous for him to be around her. He jumped back, and despite the way his eyes tracked wildly over the animal, he didn’t summon his divinity to defend himself.

“Calm,” I commanded, reaching for her. The shadows always lingering around her had deepened, shrouding her in black. With my palm pressed to her blood-red scales, I patted her neck, attempting to soothe while avoiding the sharp spines on her jaw. “We forgive him, Shika.”

“I don’t deserve it,” he murmured. He didn’t approach, even as the touchy dragon settled. She didn’t bother closing her eyes, casting a wary glare in Cyran’s direction. I would have snickered over it, but Cyran had grown somber.

“We’ve been over this, Cy. Fresh start. Allies. I refuse to blame you for anything your family has forced upon you.”

“Regardless,” he said, cautiously taking a step toward me. Shika’s low growl stopped only when I shushed her. “It’s not just that. I’m sorry for allowing you to think I don’t care about anything.”

Staring down at his feet, amused over the painfully clean boots bearing a singular errant drop of mud, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to give him more power than he already had over me. After a moment’s indecision, I lifted my head, finding him chewing at the inside of his cheek as he stared. Begrudgingly, I said, “I shouldn’t have judged you for how you grieve. If you must separate yourself from your sorrow, then?—”

“That’s just it,min viltasma. I cannot separate myself. All I’ve ever known is grief. And the only thing I can think about, the only thought that crosses my gods damn mind every single day, is keeping myself from feeling that agony over you one day.”

Surprised, I jolted back from him. “Over me?”

“You’re all I have left, Elora.” Soft. His voice, his eyes, his lips. So very soft. “I don’t know who I am or what I’m doing, except when I’m around you. All logical sense fails me, and all I want is to make you laugh, to keep you safe. If I ponder Ismene’s death, my thoughts become consumed by you, worrying about you leaving me in the same way. I refuse,” he said, jaw trembling. His earring dangled, catching the morning light, as it brushed against the curve of his jaw. There was a faint shadow of stubble; he hadn’t bothered to shave. He swallowed hard and looked away. “And that is why I sought out the rebels in my dreams last night. The best way to keep you safe is to end this war, so I will do what I can.”

My heart leapt into my throat. Did that mean he was leaving? Did that mean he would march off to war?

What if I lost him too?

Without thought, I launched myself at him, and I ignored Shika’s reverberating growl. Arms wrapping tightly around his neck, I hugged him. Though surprised, Cy returned the embrace after only a moment.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered into his neck. “I’ve been so angry, and I took it out on you.”

Pulling back to see me, his cautious smile and hazel eyes were vibrant. There was something about catching him like this in the early morning light, like the sun chasing after the moon.

“Do you know how badly I want to kiss you?” he murmured, just as Shika let out an earth-shaking roar. Slowly, Cyran let go of me, but I was certain our gazes were fixated on each other’s lips. Summoning every ounce of courage I had, I stepped toward him.

Just as my grandmother called us inside for breakfast.

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