Page 59 of Heartsong
The story jumped to her throat, but Anna bit back the words. She didn’t want to hear about how work was unsafe. He’d gotten so worked up when she’d told him about touching the other statue. She knew he’d want to do something, and knowing now that he made little jaunts outside, she worried that something would be going to the museumwhere there were definitely cameras.
And…she didn’t want to burst this bubble, too.
So…
“No,” she lied.
17
Frey had known his little excursions would upset Anna, but that hadn’t stopped him before nor after she found out. An unprepared warrior was a vulnerable one, and Frey refused to be either, not when his mate’s safety was now his duty. At least when not stone. And she was home.
He grumbled in his stone state at the thought. Weeks now and he was still only a mate by halves. Only given the night. With a mate who didn’t accept the bond.
And because in his stone state he had nothing better to do than think and worry, he wondered over how his bond with Anna would be progressing if he’d had access to his dwelling and everything he’d saved. Hobbled without his years of preparation, Frey had to make do with what he had—and that was his strength and resourcefulness.
He understood the dangers of exposing himself prematurely to a world that had forgotten his kind, but Anna was mistaken if she thought he wouldn’t take on that risk if it meant better protecting her. He knew the layout of her building. All the best entry and exit points. The most and least defensible areas. He’d begun to recognize the other humans who lived in the area, as well as their vehicles.
His flights weren’t long or very high, but they were his one taste of freedom. The biting wind and fog revitalized him, reminded him that while he may only be half-alive, it was more than he’d been in centuries.
So no, Frey didn’t stop. He just got sneakier.
Still, over the next span of days, his Anna only seemed to grow more troubled. Her headaches came on almost every night, and while she put on a brave face to eat with him, their evenings were often cut short by him shooing her to bed to nurse her head. He worried over her discomfort, and there was nothing in this world or the one he’d known that brought him lower than watching his mate in pain and being unable to do anything about it.
So Frey patrolled. He improved his cooking skills. He watched videos on the cause of headaches in human women and their possible treatment. He stole into her bedchamber before she arrived home to check her mattress and pillows for supportiveness and then made suggestions based on his research.
And he watched and studied what he could of what the humans knew of the fae, for while he was grateful to at least have his half-life, it couldn’t be borne. Not forever. His Anna needed all of him. He needed the day and to see what his mate looked like in the sunlight.
As the days passed, he couldn’t stop a growing knot of dread forming in his chest. Anna had never been the most forthcoming, but when conversation moved toward the museum, she became monosyllabic.
That she was possibly withholding information from him stung. That it was information that could possibly endanger her stuck in his craw.
He was guardian enough to admit the hypocrisy of resenting having secrets kept from him when he kept his excursions clandestine, but that didn’t soothe or comfort the growing frustration gnawing him from the inside out.
Frey kept these feelings from her, of course. They served no purpose but to drive them apart, yet they weren’t easy to disregard or dismiss. With each passing night, Frey felt the bond stagnating, left to languish in unfulfillment.
He didn’t know what to do, nor how to move forward.
His Anna wouldn’t tell him what was wrong. He didn’t know how to ask nor how to get a truthful answer from her. Frey saw the burdens she bore silently and railed against her in his mind, wishing to beg her to give them over to him. But she was silent, and so was he.
It wasn’t until nearly a week had passed that, while in his stone sleep with nothing but time to ruminate and fuss over their situation, he finally came to a decision.
Frey had always been one to act. His Anna didn’t like being pushed, but if he didn’t find a way to help her, he’d crawl right out of his skin. So when the sun disappeared and the moon allowed him out of his prison, Frey set about rearranging the living room.
He had just enough time to do that and put leftovers in the oven to reheat before Anna returned for the evening.
Frey turned to behold her, hair a little mussed from the wind, buried under her layers of scarf and coat and hat to keep out the worst of the coming winter chill. He caught her smile under the layers as she began disrobing, and it gave him heart.
“How are you, my Anna? How is your head?”
“Nothing serious today,” she said with a tired smile, allowing him to help her out of her coat. “So we’re absolutely a go to watch the new doc episode.”
“I’m glad to hear it, but before we do, there is something I’d like to teach you.”
He led her into the living room, and he watched her take in how he’d pushed the furniture back toward the walls to make room for them on the carpet.
“Um…teach me what, exactly?”
“To defend yourself. Until we find a solution to this curse, I cannot be with you to protect you in the daylight. But I can prepare you.”
