Page 36 of Lana Pecherczyk
“So were you!” he shot back, leaning into her space. “I helped you, and all you gave me was ‘I hate you.’”
Her jaw clicked shut. Heat blazed across her cheeks, spreading down her neck. “You’re right.”
“I am?” The fight drained from his posture, replaced by wary confusion.
“Yes, that was rude, and I’m sor?—”
Three hands lunged toward her mouth simultaneously.
Startled, Blake jerked back. “What the?—?”
“No apologies,” Ada warned.
“But I heard you apologize to Trix yesterday.”
“Look,” Ada replied, tension threading through her voice, “we old-worlders don’t have the same rules, but I wouldn’t put it past your fae mate to enforce a debt of gratitude.”
Blake swung her gaze to River and found his face a mask of exaggerated innocence. His lips twitched, parting slightly as if to speak, but she jabbed him again. “I’m not done. The point is, I don’t care if you’ve been hurt. We’ve all been hurt in one way or another. I lost me entire life. Me brothersandme father. I lost me—” She cleared her throat to avoid mentioning Jeff. “I lostmyhomeland. All the unique wildlife. Koalas, platypuses, emus, and magpies.”
The word lodged in her throat like a stone. Each creature named was another piece of her world gone forever. Her final words emerged hollow. “It doesn’t excuse being a dickhead to nice people.”
Heat prickled behind her eyes. But the knot in her chest loosened. No more swallowing her feelings. No more polite silence. Sweeping her emotions under someone else’s rug didn’t make them go away. Pain existed for a reason. If wounds weren’t acknowledged, they festered.
“You done?” River’s tone was eerily calm.
She lifted her watery gaze and braced for the storm she’d witnessed before. Instead, she found amusement tinged with a hint of respect. She managed a shaky nod.
River faced the two women and brought his fist to his chest, where he rubbed it in a circular motion. He raised his brows at Blake. “That’s how you apologize in Elphyne.”
“It’s fine,” Trix waved him off, but the tension in the room eased.
Blake blinked, stunned. She’d spoken her truth, and the world hadn’t crumbled around her.
River clipped the chakram to his belt with practiced efficiency, his body angling toward the exit. Ada exchanged a loaded glance with Trix before addressing him. “Actually, there’s something you can do for us in return.”
He paused, his eyes narrowing. “Now?”
Ada nodded. “You mentioned some kind of murder thing.”
“Murder-what?” Blake sank onto the bed, suddenly aware of the thin fabric barely covering her thighs.
“Of crows,” Trix explained.
“An annual crow gathering, I think,” Ada added quickly before returning to River. “You mentioned a special market,unlike any other, where rare items are bartered. I’ve seen Ash and Aeron read mana-preserved books from our time. Will you see more books like that there?”
“Seen me reading what?” A smooth, male voice flowed into the room.
River poked his head past the curtain, his sharp blue eyes tracking the newcomer in from the direction of the entrance.
“About fucking time,” he muttered.
The words were harsh, but Blake felt a wave of River’s relief washing against her consciousness before he could block it.
The man who stepped into view matched him in height and build. He was clad in the same leather uniform with the telltale Guardian teardrop beneath his eye. But where River radiated edgy intensity, this man exuded patient menace.
His skin was darker than River’s, and a thin leather cord circled his temples, holding back shoulder-length straight hair that moved as if he stood by an open window. Ash’s gaze deliberately scanned River and lingered on the blue-marked arm without reaction until he looked at Blake.
A thousand emotions raced behind his brown eyes before settling on one: amusement.
