me between the cool black metal and his overheated hard body. I didn’t push him away, because feeling like a burger patty exponentially diminished my chances of becoming one.
“I hate lupa,” Remo gritted between clenched teeth.
The train shook and rattled so hard I thought the wolf would manage to topple it. When everything else was stuck in this damn town, why did we have to pick the only thing that wasn’t? “You know what I don’t get?”
“No, what don’t you get, Trifecta?”
“Why you helped me get away from the wolves when you clearly hate my guts.”
His hot breaths pulsed against the shell of my ear a half dozen times before he finally answered, “I’ve been trained to protect fae. Even the abominable ones.”
Instead of my temper rising, it was my lips that did. I turned my head slightly, just enough for him to detect my mocking smile. “Is that why?”
His pupils spread, devouring their green backdrops. It hit me then that his eyes weren’t gold anymore. This world had stolen his lucionaga magic just like it had stolen my diverse one.
I was about to say something about it in case he hadn’t realized he couldn’t transform into a firefly, when he asked, “Did you think I cared about you?”
“Cared about me?” I laughed, my chest shaking even though the carriage no longer did. “Oh no, Remo Farrow.” My hilarity petered out as swiftly as it had struck, and I leveled a hard dry look on the faerie guard. “I assumed you cared about my crown, and it sitting on top of your head someday.”
His lash line dipped, obscuring his eyes. “I don’t give a shit about your crown.”
Liar, I thought. “Then why did you agree to marry me?”
“To make my grandfather happy.”
“Aw. Aren’t you the sweetest?” My syrupy voice made him scowl. “You think you’ll ever start thinking for yourself, or will you always let your grandfather and mother dictate your opinions and steer your life?”
The vein in his temple, the one under his birthmark, throbbed. “I should’ve let you get mauled.”
Gratitude that he didn’t abated my virulence. I gave him a close-lipped smile before directing my attention toward the tracks. “I think they’re gone.”
Remo peered over my head, twisting it to the right and then to the left. Slowly, he peeled his body off mine but kept one palm on the chimney for support.
“I think you’re right, but considering they’re smart as fuck, they probably haven’t strayed too far. Did I mention how much I hate lupa?”
“A few times.” I wrinkled my nose. “I’ve decided I’m no longer a fan. At least, not of the Frontier Land breed.”
He snorted.
Gnawing on my lip, I added, “If you haven’t shelved your offer, I’d like to take you up on it.”
“My offer?”
I grimaced. “To stay together.”
A smug smile tugged at his mouth. “Whatever changed your mind, prinsisa?”
I almost wanted to take it back. Almost. But a distant howl cemented my desire not to trek through this land alone. “I don’t want to die, and if that means sticking to you for the next few hours”—or days . . . hopefully hours—“then so be it.”
He studied me a moment before backing up some more. “Don’t stick too close.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. So what’s the plan?”
“Not getting eaten by lupa.”
“Besides that and reaching the portal?”
He took in the mountain and the tunnel running through it. “We need to see where the tracks lead.”
How could we when a pack of rabid wolves guarded the entrance like some fae-version of Cerberus?
An idea surfaced. “The train. It shook.”
“You don’t say.”
I rolled my eyes. “What I meant is, it’s not stuck to the tracks, so maybe it works.”
Surprise sculpted the line of his jaw. Ha! He hadn’t thought of that. Ten points to Amara. Zero to Remo. Okay, half a point for saving my ass earlier.
“You might be onto something.” He gestured to the platform with a flourish. “After you.”
“Coward,” I muttered.
“You mean, chivalrous?”
I glared at him, which just made his smirk grow.
“Fine. I’ll go first.” I kneeled and then slid myself back down toward the window, praying the wolf wasn’t waiting quietly inside.
I probably should’ve checked before threading my legs through the opening. Apparently, my survival instincts were underdeveloped. Back in Linus’s day, it was tradition for royal fae on the brink of adulthood to trek across Neverra alone and without the use of any of their powers. Although my aunt’s account had made me grateful Iba had abolished the tradition, the initiatory voyage might’ve served me