“They have their magic.”
My gaze went to Lidi’s star and mine. Her star was dull, almost touching Tay’s tattered star. The sight of them both sent a stab of loss through me. All I wanted was to see them as two bright, perfect stars.
Meanwhile, my star seemed bright green today.
Was my star always changing?
“Fieran, do you know what I am?” I knew he wouldn’t answer honestly, but I hoped he’d give me something to unravel. “Why I’m a mortal marked for the dragons?”
“All I know is that you’re dangerous.” His smile was wide and winning and not one I’d ever return. He was lying. “And I hope the Fae Queen doesn’t notice that until it’s too late.”
He rolled to his feet with that damned shifter grace. It was just like Fieran to drop a line like that and abandon me to fret over it.
I scrambled to my feet. “There are rumors. That I’m dragon-marked?—”
As always, he seemed unsurprised, as if he were always a few steps ahead. “Very well. I assumed that would be inescapable since you refuse to play servant. The queen will have so very many rumors to untangle.”
Those other rumors stung. “People think I’m your toy…or your lover…”
“Does it matter as long as their foolishness serves our purpose?” He seemed to find this conversation dull, rather than enraging as I did, and he turned to go. “Tomorrow. Same time.”
Thirty
Ispent that afternoon training with Anayla, though under Fieran’s watchful eye. He had the rest of Bismyth training together in one of the massive labyrinth rooms. Enormous floor-to-ceiling windows opened to the brilliant blue sea below, knitting my fear of heights and fear of deep water.
I was breathing hard and frustrated with myself when Anayla told me to follow her. The two of us stepped out into the cool hallway.
“Fear and I have been talking about those dirty tricks—” she began, then faltered.
I followed her gaze.
Maura leaned against the wall opposite us, looking self-possessed and untouchable as always in her tight corset and leather trousers, her bracers sparkling with both spikes and gems.
But her very presence here betrayed her vulnerability.
“Maura.” Anayla’s voice was gentle, disappointed, and affectionate, all tangled together. “He’s not ready.”
Maura studiously didn’t look at me. “This is ridiculous.”
“You went too far,” Anayla said firmly. “He told you to stop provoking her a half dozen times. He couldn’t abide the barbs. You really thought he’d tolerate that beating?”
The words jolted me. Fieran had defended me against her petty little remarks? But when she had left a trail of her jealousy and he always saw through us…why had he trusted her to train me?
“And everyone is going to let him cast me out?” Maura swept her arm to indicate the training room, straining off the wall in a way that betrayed her tension.
“I wish you’d done things differently.” Anayla sounded genuinely pained in response.
Maura made a disgusted noise and pushed off the wall. She never even looked my way as she swept off, but it wasn’t until she was out of sight that I realized I’d tensed for a fight.
My shoulders were tight, my hands knotted into fists. I flexed my hands deliberately. “Fieran still hasn’t forgiven her?”
“No.” She looked troubled. “He always acts as if no one can hurt him. Because he can read us so well, because he expects betrayal.”
She glanced in the doorway, where Fieran—shirtless and looking far too good, damn him—was working with two younger shifters who had been struggling to keep up with the others. “But he didn’t expect it from Maura. He trusted her.”
“And he can’t stand to be wrong.” My voice came out bitter.
“It’s not that. We’re his only real family. He’s had enough experience being betrayed by family. He…” Anayla cut herself off, as if she had changed her mind, and cast me a distinctly judgmental look. “Speaking of being wrong…you’re wrong about him.”
