years. I stared in absolute stunned silence as he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off her feet as he devoured her mouth with his own. Then, as if realizing they were no longer alone, he deposited her on the ground once more and lifted his head. His eyes clashed with mine and he froze.
"Sorrell?" Cress's trembling voice indicated she was oblivious to my entrance. Her cheeks were flushed and her smile confused until she turned and spotted me as well. "Roan!" she shouted. "You're back!"
And just like that, the spell of surprise I'd been under was broken. Cress raced from his arms straight into mine, slamming into my chest as her arms came around me and she practically climbed my body. "You're safe!" she said excitedly. "Oh, I'm so glad you're back. Look!" She turned and pointed to the still burning hay hale. "I did it! I blasted it!"
"I see … well done, Little Bird." I glanced from her face to Sorrell's as he approached at a much slower pace. "I see the two of you are getting along as well."
Cress's eyes widened and though her smile remained, a hint of pink tinged her cheeks. Before she could say anything, however, Sorrell spoke first. "When did you return?" he asked.
"A few hours ago," I admitted.
He frowned.
"Orion and I went to speak with Groffet first," I told him, sliding my hand beneath Cress's body to hold her up.
His eyes followed the movement, lingering for a moment on where her ass was pressed beneath my forearms. I wondered, briefly, just how much closer they'd become in our absence. It didn't anger me. On the contrary, I was glad to see that he'd finally broken his abstinence. Without a moment to lose, as well, because with mine and Orion's return—there was only more problems waiting for us. My relief at seeing the two of them would be short lived, no fucking doubt.
"What did you find at the Duke's castle?" he demanded, lifting his gaze to meet mine once more.
"Nothing good," I replied. "Nothing good at all."
Cress pushed back away from me and wiggled. "What's going on?" she asked. I set her down between Sorrell and me, the two of us towering over her much smaller frame. She flicked a glance back to him before resettling her gaze on me. "Roan?"
"Orion is in the library awaiting us," I said.
"Then we must not keep him waiting much longer," Sorrell replied with a nod. "Cress?" She blinked as she turned to him, the flush rising curiously back to her cheeks. "Lead the way?" he suggested. I half expected her to snort and walk off—I'd become so accustomed to their apparent dislike of each other, especially his, it was odd to watch his gaze soften and hers to heat as she nodded.
Just as she strode past me and I moved to follow, Sorrell's hand came out and captured my arm. "A moment," he said. "We'll catch up."
She paused on the threshold of the corridor, narrowing her eyes at him before sighing and striding off. "Very interesting," I commented once I was sure she was out of hearing range. "When I last saw you two, I was beginning to doubt my assumption that you had any feelings for her at all."
He leveled me with an icy look and I lifted my hands in a placating gesture. "She is..." He trailed off, as if he didn't have the words to describe one single Changeling Fae woman.
"Yes," I said with a nod. "I know." She was sunshine and moonlight. Fire and Earth. Warmth that could melt even the coldest heart—now so much more obviously proven. "You finally gave in."
He nodded. "She makes it impossible not to." That comment I understood all too well. Cress was becoming more than just a Changeling. "Now." Sorrell's face shifted back to his serious expression. "Tell me what we're walking into."
"Like I said," I told him. "It's not good. Tyr has been feeding the humans information—on the Courts’ whereabouts, ours and Midnight."
"That's treason," he growled.
"Yes, well..." I sucked in a breath. "I don't really think he gives a fuck anymore. He and the King are planning to build a castle—much like the Courts—with … can you guess? A fucking Lanuaet at the center."
Sorrell's eyes widened and his face went from pale to dead white. "No..." It wasn't a denial, but a hope. A hope that what I said wasn't true. It shouldn't be, but it was.
"We have to end this war," I said,