A Discovery of Secrets and Fate (Chronicles of the Stone Veil #2) - Sawyer Bennett Page 0,102

moment. It’s a proprietary and intimate gesture that a lover might do to his woman to hold her attention.

It’s a romantic notion immediately fizzled by his hard and serious expression. “Pyke and I are friends. He’s a good ally. He doesn’t hate humans the way that most Light Fae do. But he’s still fae, and I never trust anyone fully, and neither should you.”

“What did you tell Pyke about why we were here?” I ask curiously.

“I’ve told him generally what has happened from the moment I realized you could see under glamours until we came to Faere. Pyke spends a lot of time in the Earth realm and has many contacts, so I was hoping he’d keep his ear to the ground. The one thing I purposely left out was about your feather.”

It’s ironic Carrick has this level of piousness regarding trust, and it’s okay for him to withhold information from Pyke. Just as he’s withheld from me the fact he is a demi-god. I know this is something I need to confront with him, but I decided to wait until after we talk to The Scryer. For now, I think it’s best for me if Carrick assumes I’m stupidly in the dark on things.

“Now, I have to get back to the party,” Carrick says, dropping his hand from my neck. “I don’t want to offend Nimeyah and have our permission to travel in her land revoked.”

“Of course not,” I murmur, and I can’t help but adding. “Wouldn’t want to offend Deandra, either, for rushing out on her.”

“You can come back with me,” he offers, but it’s obvious he doesn’t mean it. Whether I’m just a thorn in his side that needs babysitting, or he really didn’t like Pyke’s attention on me, he’d rather I stay here.

I shake my head, wondering if I’m feeding him right back into Deandra’s hands. “I’m actually tired, so I think I’ll go to bed.”

Carrick smiles, and I do not like that it’s in an amused way. His hand comes back up. To my shock, there’s a small glass orb in it. “If you’re bored, you can continue to watch the party through this.”

I lean forward and peer at the thick glass, and before my eyes, the inside transforms to show the party going on outside the castle. The edges are a bit distorted, but the clarity is amazing for the most part. I see Nimeyah and her husband chatting with a group of people, and suddenly, the orb zooms in on her. I can’t hear the conversation, but can see them with crystal clarity. I wonder where Pyke is, and the picture spins to the right before zooming in again, right on Pyke talking to a beautiful blond fae. Interesting, it appears the orb will zoom in on the object of my interest, giving me the opportunity to spy on whomever I like.

My gaze moves from the glass ball to Carrick, who is watching me intently. “There is nothing between Deandra and me, nor will there ever be again,” he says.

His message is clear. I can watch him when he returns to the party, and I won’t have to wonder what happens.

I keep my hands to my sides, leveling a small smile. “No, thank you. I’m truly tired and think I’m going to bed.”

Carrick nods, drops his hand, and pivots away. When I glance down, the orb has disappeared.

He moves to the door and unlocks it. “I’ve got a ward on this door. No one can come in but me. I’ll try not to wake you when I return.”

“Return?” I exclaim, my heart starting to thunder again.

“We’re sharing this room, Finley,” he drawls casually. “I figured you knew that.”

“Why would I know that?” I retort, hating how shrill my voice sounds.

Carrick chuckles. “Did you honestly think I would let you stay in this castle alone with every fae wanting to rip your throat out?”

“You said I was protected on your word alone,” I point out.

“And the queen has laid down the edict as well,” he agrees. “But what have I always told you? Don’t trust a fae.”

“You should hashtag that,” I mutter even as I wring my hands together with worry over this news. My eyes go to the bed—which is huge—and move around the room. I see Carrick’s backpack in one corner. Had it always been there, and I missed it?

“Don’t worry,” Carrick says, and my gaze whips back to him. “I don’t bite.”

“But… there’s not a couch for you to sleep on,”

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