Page 50 of A Dance With Fire
“So what do we do?” Uric asked.
“There’s nothing we can do,” Ryker supplied, speaking for the first time.
Valerio sighed. “Ryker’s right. We can do nothing but wait and hope she eventually trusts us.” He snapped his gaze from between Ryker and Clay. “Watch over her. We already committed this mistake. We cannot afford to make any more.”
* * *
The bonfire blazed and crackled,meat roasting over the licking flames. A single, skinned rabbit, whose pieces would have to be rationed. Shula knew she wouldn’t take any when the others in camp were truly hungry, their skin clinging to their bones.
The flames called to her, hypnotizing in their entirety. It was like a calling to her blood and she wondered if that’s what her own blood looked like. If her heart pumped fire through her body and her veins. If the evidence was in the disruptive force burning her chest, the smoke in her lungs, her fiery temper that wanted to do nothing but wreak destruction.
She swallowed the lump in her throat.
Idle talk sounded around her, and she tuned out most of it. Orna still hadn’t come back from feeding those on guard duty, so she figured she had gone to have a tryst with her mate in the woods like Clay had insinuated.
It felt rather lonely. But loneliness was something she was familiar with and always would be. Because loneliness was a prominent, recognizable feeling. Once it sunk its claws into you, there was nothing more you desired than to eradicate it in any way you could. It’s why some people fell. Why they tied themselves down to people who hurt them.
Because anything was better than being alone.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she startled when two figures sat next to her.
“Sorry,” Orna breathed. A full smile pulled at her mouth, and in her arm she held her husband close. They both radiated a happy glow that suggested they’d been doing… things. Their clothes seemed immaculate, but it was their hair that was ruffled, their lips plump. Even Orna’s shimmering blue skin seemed to sparkle like she was sprinkled with star dust. “I left you with all the work.”
Shula smiled knowingly at her. “It’s fine.”
Orna snuggled close to her husband, a dark-skinned man with a radiant smile, her eyes closing in marital bliss. This? It was something more than just that. It was mates. The bond was a vibrant thing between them.
“How long have the two of you been together?” Shula couldn't help but ask.
“Six months,” they answered in unison.
Shula’s eyes widened. “So little.” She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She would have guessed they’d been together for longer. “It just seems like you’ve known each other forever.”
Orna couldn’t have possibly been more charming, but she somehow was with every passing second as her smile got wider and wider. “Itfeelslike we’ve been together for a lifetime.”
“And even then that doesn’t feel like enough.” Her husband patted her hand.
Shula found it surprising that a human could look upon a Fae without anything other than hate. There was obvious adoration in his eyes, like the sun rose and set on Orna, like her skin shimmered with the golden dust of shooting stars and he meant to worship every single one.
For a single moment, Shula wished for that. It gripped her chest tightly, made her crave that type of acceptance. She had to look away from them and into the flames of the fire.
They held her attention for a moment, but when her eyes followed the licking tips, her eyes caught Ryker’s and her breath stuck in the back of her throat.
He was cold and unfeeling and just staring at him made something brittle and dangerous stir inside her chest. Shadows danced across his rough features, making that single white eye glow and the black eye flicker with golden specks.
He didn’t tear his gaze away, like he wasn’t embarrassed to be caught staring. Like he didn’t care at all that her own eyes traced the rigid lines of his scars like one would trace the rivers on a map. She wondered how he’d gotten them, and when the scowl formed on his face, she decided that she didn’t care.
Shula forced herself to turn back to Orna and her husband. They seemed to be in their own little world that she dared to interrupt. She despised the bitter edge in her voice, the questioning of it. “How did a human and Fae meet?” Her eyes narrowed on the husband. “You weren’t… disgusted… with her being Fae? Or do you not see her as Fae?”
Like all the other humans were.
Like Fanny had been.
Her question set a melancholy tone around them. Shula was aware that everything had gone quiet, save for the cackling flames. All the eyes were on her; she felt them, judging her harsh, bitter tone. Judging her for asking that question.
“I think the fact that OrnaisFae is what makes her beautiful. She wouldn’t be Orna without it.” Her husband’s hand smoothed over her arm, which shimmered brightly as if pleased by the compliment. “Of course when I look at her I see her for what she really is. I know she’s different from me, but different doesn’t mean bad.” He looked at Shula with a ferocity in his eyes that was intense for a human. “I accept her fully, wholly. Because I love her. Always and no matter what.”
Shula bit her bottom lip and forced herself to look away from him. Sincewhenhad Shula become so bitter? Had she always been this way? Was that what death and fear did? Was Fanny’s betrayal affecting her more than she realized?
