Page 82 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
I barely got to know my youngest brother before his death, and Caed has given me a precious memory of what it might have been like had I been raised in Faerie surrounded by brothers.
“He was like a father to you,” I whisper.
Caed stiffens, and it’s his turn to hide his face, pretending to find something on the floor fascinating.
“For as long as it lasted. He taught me a lot, and I repaid him by using the lessons to invade Faerie.” He rolls his eyes, looking down. “Never did apologise to him for that.”
I’ve been so busy trying to bury my grief that I didn’t realise I wasn’t the only one mourning. Bram looked after Caed for a year. He knew him much better than I did.
A lantern floats into the air on our left, cutting into the painful discussion.
“Oh, I don’t have anything…” I look down at my own lantern, cursing my stupidity for not thinking to bring something to light the tiny candle at the base.
Caed clears his throat. “Fortunately, one of us is prepared.” He dips a hand into the pouch at his waist and draws out a thumb-sized disc of glimmering quartz. “Prae made me replace my fire striker because it was steel,” he mumbles under his breath. “Now I have to use this stupid magical fae—” He coughs. “I mean… quicker invention.”
He holds it up, then summons a tiny glamour spark in the centre. The enchanted quartz acts like a focus, magnifying themagical light above and turning it into real fire that strikes the wick at just the right angle.
The balloon inflates while he repeats the magic on his own lantern, and I frown.
“So now we make a wish?”
“Apparently.” Caed shrugs, but he’s frowning at his own like it might bite him.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I struggle to come up with something. Originally, I was going to choose something like the end of the war, healing for Bree, and the safety of my loved ones, but Jaro told me the wishes are supposed to be selfish. I’m supposed to choose something purely for myself.
It goes against everything my mortal upbringing taught, so perhaps that’s why I sit there for long enough to earn a sideways glance from Caed.
“What’s your wish?” I ask, then flush.
It’s pretty obvious what his wish is. He probably just wants to live past Beltaine.
“Can’t tell you, remember?” he murmurs. “Besides, if I say it out loud, I think the púca might take my head.”
Oh.Ohh. He’s wishing for something sexual? A forbidden thought breaks forward, and I suppress my smile. CouldIbe so bold as to do the same? Well, who would know if I did? Besides, no one said my wish had to be realistic, right?
So I lift my lantern into the air and with a soft smile, I wish for a day in the future where all five of my males are willing to share me in the same bed.
Caed’s lantern joins mine a second later, and without thinking too hard about it, I lean back against his chest to watch the two of them dance around each other as they spiral into the sky.
He doesn’t move for the longest second. When his arm wraps around my shoulder, it’s with a heart-stuttering uncertainty, likehe’s either not sure I’ll allow the touch, or he’s worried Bree might take his hand for it.
To make it clear to my Guard in the shadows, I snuggle further into Caed’s chest, smiling softly to myself.
“I think I preferred it when you didn’t wear shirts,” I whisper, just to torment him.
Caed lets out a pained groan, and I chuckle. It could be the glass of fae wine, the sweetness of which still lingers in my mouth, or perhaps simply exhaustion from a long day, but I have the sudden feeling that tormenting my Fomorian might actually be fun.
“Focus on the fucking lanterns,” he grumbles a second later. “Before Bree decides to cut my nuts off for taking too many liberties.”
The sky is beautiful, and I take pity on him as I let myself trace the paths of the lanterns as they flutter towards the stars. The only way this could be more perfect would be if the rest of my Guard were here to share it with us.
My hand dips towards my pocket, remembering the case there. Oh Goddess, I should’ve just got him a sword. What if he doesn’t like it?
Crushing my self-doubt under the heel of feigned indifference, I draw it out and present it to him. “I suppose it’s time for your present…”
But before I can hand it over, someone screams.
“The Fomorian’s gone mad!”a male screeches from behind us, and Caed stiffens.
