scrapes the second bone and offers me the marrow.
“You eat.”
“I am.” He takes a bite of the raw potato and crunches it between his teeth. “Now you.”
We both know the marrow is the choice item at this little feast. I shouldn’t take it all. “You should—”
He grunts and thrusts it to my mouth. “Open.”
I do. Because I’m weak. And hungry. He presses the marrow onto my tongue. I lick the tips of his fingers, and his eyes go golden. A low purr reverberates between us, and I press my thighs together to ease the ache it sets off.
He pulls his fingers back, his gaze on my mouth.
I shift on the moss and take the water skin again. “Your eyes go gold when the feral shows up.” Taking just a sip, I then close it up.
He hands me the second potato, his eyes fading back to dark green.
“Gold?” He rubs the stubble on his chin. “Huh.”
“Yeah.” I nibble the potato, eating only half before handing it back to him.
Of course, he won’t take it.
“Gareth, you need to eat. You can’t give me all the food.” I keep holding the potato out.
He takes it and pockets it. “For you. Later.” He stands and offers me his hand.
I take it as a high-pitched scream cuts through the insect sounds. Chillbumps erupt along my body. “What was that?”
“Nothing good.” He pulls me toward the road, the moonlight illuminating it as a line of white against the dunes in the near distance.
The scream comes again, and he moves faster but guides me in front of him. I hug the skins to my chest as he keeps his pike at the ready.
When we finally reach the road, he stops and turns, his body tense as he waits for whatever makes that vicious scream. After a few moments, the sound comes again, but it’s farther away.
“Creatures like that don’t like being out in the open.” He glances at the dark sky dotted with stars. “In fact, neither do I.” He leads me to the opposite side of the road, the one that flows away into the wilderness of sand that seems utterly bereft of life.
The image of all those faces in the back of the slave wagon flashes through my mind. Though I wish I didn’t see, I did. And some of the faces belonged to children. They will be sold to the highest bidder—their lives wasted in the mines, or perhaps they’ll be sent back north to serve in a noble house of Byrn Varyndr. At least there they’ll be beaten in style. My eyes water the slightest bit, but I swallow hard and push my feelings down, down, down. After all, there’s nothing I can do about it. I couldn’t save myself, much less anyone else.
Gareth and I trudge in silence for a while, the food settling in my stomach and the water giving me new legs. The wind is the only sound other than our steps. Byrn Varyndr is never this quiet. The maid next door would be either snoring or crying, the neighborhood fae children would be playing or tormenting their slaves, Wreth would be cackling as she killed a chicken and ripped its head off with her teeth—there was never a moment of true quiet. Not the way it is out here.
The dunes are beautiful, but nothing stirs in them. I rub my arms despite the warm air. It’s just so lonely.
“You aren’t alone, Beth.”
I turn to Gareth, his eyes luminous under the moonlight despite the dirt smudged on his cheeks. “I didn’t know I said that out loud.”
He smiles a little, and the pureness of it makes him look young.
“How old are you?” The question takes flight before I can clip its wings.
His laugh is a boisterous hug, and I want it to wrap around me. “What a question.”
“I’m just curious.” I toss my matted hair over my shoulder in the flirtiest way anyone can toss matted hair. “I mean, I assume I’ll call you ‘my old fae fella’ if we’re ever mated.”
“If?” He tsks and takes my hand. “When, you mean.”
I suck on my canine tooth. “Tell you what. You can either tell me your age or how many females you’ve slept with.”
His steps stutter for a second, but he rights himself before falling into the coarse sand. “Okay, but what do I get in return?”
“If you tell me one of those dear facts, I’ll tell you the very same one about myself. We can set that rule for the