Page 142 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
My heart crunches slightly in my chest as I remember her innocent questions and gentle touches as I led her into Faerie. That Rose would never have dreamed of storming into Calimnel.
“Have we failed her, then?” I ask. “We should’ve protected her well enough that it wasn’t necessary for her to lose herself like this.”
“Oh, shut up,” Caed mutters, teeth chattering. “You think her being stronger is a bad thing? Ancestors, and you call the redcap mad…”
“She’s grown,” Bree accepts. “But I wish it had taken less of a toll.”
“Fewer deaths would certainly have made things easier to bear,” I mutter, giving the Fomorian a pointed look. “Why are you over here with us? Shouldn’t you be trying to woo Drystan for his forgiveness?”
He should be trying harder. Rose wants him, but he’s barely talking to her. If keeping his distance is his plan to win Drystan’s approval, then someone has to tell him that the best it will do is earn him a slightly quicker death.
“I doubt even getting on my knees and offering to suck him off would get me on his good side,” Caed mutters. I grimace. He’s probably right. “Besides, I’m at peace with it, and it’s not like everyone else has forgiven me, either.”
“They’ve not?” I ask, frowning.
The Fomorian looks pointedly across me to the púca, who shrugs. “He’s been avoiding her, avoiding being alone with her. How is he supposed to earn my trust if he’s never around her?”
Caed stills, shrugging. “I just…”
Whatever he might’ve said is lost as Bree continues. “I’ve yet to see a full apology for everything that happened to her in Fellgotha. The festival was a good start, but you’re still cutting your hair. I caught you doing it at Winter’s Fork. I thought you said that was a mark of dishonour.”
Caed flinches subtly, but I don’t defend him, curious about his answer. Bree is right. He’s been avoiding all of us since Illidwen, sticking at the back of the group as we ride andturning down my requests to spar, which is a shame because he’s actually pretty damned good. As for Rose, he’s acting like there’s a ten-foot ward around her that he can’t cross. I thought they bonded at the Lantern Festival. Was I wrong?
“It’s also a symbol of being cut off from the Ancestors,” he argues. “Do you really think I want to be connected to Balor or any of his fucking spawn right now? I’d rip my father apart to keep her safe, if I could.”
All truth.
The conversation drops as Lore lets out a piercing whistle. From across the fire, a pile of snow wiggles, then moves, and Wraith bounds from beneath it with an excited yip. Lore and Rose fuss over him for a minute, and my wolf howls with jealousy in my mind, wishing she’d pet us like that. Fur breaks out on my arms as I fight back the shift with everything in me.
My wolf is determined to feel her fingers scratching his ears. His teeth in her neck. Her bond in?—
Later,I promise desperately.
Then the redcap blinks away, returning with the saddle, and a piece of the puzzle falls into place
Shit.
“She’s going to ride Wraith to Calimnel.”
And what a sight that will be. A Nicnevin on a barghest, marching up to the icy gates.
“Which means I need a horse,” Lore singsongs. “Care to share, wolfie?”
“No.” Rose rides up beside us, the fire glinting in her eyes. “Jaro, I need you to shift.”
I stiffen, and my claws erupt, shredding my thick winter gloves. “Rosie, that’s not a good idea. If anyone threatens you…”
Slaughter. Prove. Mate.
The wolf’s mantra hasn’t disappeared because of her charm. It’s still there, still driving me quietly insane. She’s safe frombeing mated, but if Cedwyn so much as breathes wrong in her direction, my wolf will attack.
“I know.”
She knows? Yet she’s asking this of me anyway, recklessly risking a diplomatic incident?
Maybe Lore’s madness is catching.
Or maybe she’s just as fed up with this bullshit as the rest of us. No one can deny that a Nicnevin on a barghest, with a feral wolf beside her, is an imposing vision.
