me the whole rest of the way and tucked me in afterward. A tender warmth unfurls in my chest at the thought.
When I kick off the covers, my foot still throbs dully from all the walking. I massage it, careful of the malformed ridge of bone where the broken bits fused wrong, and other memories from the rest of the evening begin to surface. The tension between Sylas and August. Whitt’s insistence that I leave. The woman from Tristan’s cadre, so suspicious of me and determined to get answers.
I shiver. Are we all in even more danger now? This world scares me, but at the same time, I hate that so much is happening that I can’t play a part in. I’m here now. I wish I had more say in my future. I wish I could be more of a participant in the conflicts going on around me instead of an object to be fought over.
I wish my life in the realm of the fae could be as simple as resting nestled against Sylas’s chest, but fat chance of that. Even cuddling against him doesn’t seem all that simple when I think of how August must have felt, watching us.
The sun is bright beyond my window. I’ve slept in after that late night, but from the smells seeping under my door, I don’t think I’ve completely missed breakfast. There’s definitely a whiff of bacon in that mix. While I’m filling my stomach with deliciousness, it’ll be easier not to worry about all the things I can’t control.
I’ve pulled on my clothes and am just fitting the brace around my ankle when there’s a knock on the door. Sylas’s voice filters through. “Talia?”
“Come in.” I pull the last strap tight and straighten up where I’m perched on the seat of the armchair.
As the fae lord steps into the room, my pulse stutters. He didn’t chastise me for running away last night, but maybe he didn’t want to lay into me while I was exhausted and recently attacked. The full reprisal might be coming now.
Sylas doesn’t look angry, though. His unscarred eye gleams bright with an energy I haven’t seen in him before, his expression both determined and I want to think a little hopeful. He holds his head high, his massive frame as imposing as ever, but there’s something oddly hesitant in the way he stops partway between the doorway and the chair.
I don’t know what to make of it. A quiver of anticipation tickles over my skin.
“I’ve made a decision about your place here,” he says, and my heart outright stops.
I curl my fingers around the edge of the seat cushion to steady myself. “Okay.”
The corner of his mouth curves upward into a hint of a bittersweet smile. “Don’t look like that, little scrap. It isn’t bad news—at least, I’d like to believe it isn’t. We won’t be turning you over to the arch-lords or anyone else.”
The shock of the reprieve hits me so hard it’s a second before I can breathe again. “What?”
He doesn’t wait for me to produce more than that single started word. “You can stay here with us. And I won’t demand blood from you either. We do believe you’re safest if you stay in our domain rather than returning to your own world while Aerik is still searching for you.”
I grope for words, still stunned. “Won’t you get in trouble for hiding me here?”
“I don’t intend for anyone to discover what we’re hiding. While you’re with us, we can shield you from anyone who might prowl by. And if they should put the pieces together regardless, we can protect you in ways no one in the human world could.”
“But—you don’t even want a cure for your own pack—?”
His smile widens and tightens at the same time. “I do, but not like this. Whatever has afflicted us these past decades, you aren’t a real solution, only a stop-gap that might very well lull us into a false sense of security when we should be seeking out a full cure. We’ve weathered the wildness plenty of times already, and we can weather it again.”
I can stay here, and I won’t have to bleed to earn that kindness. A smile of my own splits my face so suddenly my cheeks ache with it.
“We can’t keep you cooped up in the keep for all eternity,” Sylas goes on. “And now at least one fae beyond these walls knows there’s a pink-haired human in our midst. August’s bit of