“There’s a fine line between banter and disrespect, Maura.” Fieran’s voice was calm but carried a sharper edge than I’d ever heard. “You’re coming dangerously close to stepping into a place you don’t want to find yourself.”
He didn’t raise his tone, but Anayla’s eyes widened. Maura froze, then smoothed her expression back into its usual stoic mask. There was a brief flicker of unease in her gaze before she turned it on me, hard and angry, as if it were my fault I’d glimpsed the crack between them.
“My apologies,” she said lightly, though everyone could tell how rarely those words passed her lips.
Fieran studied her, silent and steady.
Then Maura turned to me. “I’m sorry, Cara.”
The sound of my name on her tongue startled me. Fear might have forced an apology from her, but it must seem as ridiculous to her as apologizing to a broomstick.
“It’s no trouble,” I murmured, but she was already striding away, leaving me to speak to her back. She and Fieran exchanged a look before she trudged off into the shadows.
“Don’t mind her,” Fieran said quietly. “She isn’t as mean as she seems. New faces are difficult for her. She barely trusts us.”
I only nodded. Maybe I wasn’t much different. Reserved, cautious, careful with my limited energy. I wasn’t sure I wanted to open my heart to anyone beyond the few already settled inside it.
And yet…around Fieran, I felt an ache. A longing to be absorbed into the warmth of his band, even knowing it could only be for tonight. Tomorrow they would move on without me.
“Well, she won’t have to see my face for long,” I said, attempting levity. Fieran frowned, as if he meant to argue, so I hurried on. “Showme how we finish setting the trap. Is it something I can help with as a mortal?”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted.
“You’ve never worked with a mortal before?” I didn’t want to sound like a dog trailing at his heels, or worse, a servant.
He caught my sleeve and tugged me along gently. “We rarely make friends with the villagers. It’s harder to convince them to trust their saviors once they realize we have the same faults and failures, no matter how much magic we carry.”
The thought struck me strangely deep. He had let me in when no one else had. “Tell me some of those faults.”
His mouth quirked, an amused exhale escaping him. “And then will you tell me yours?”
“I’ll tell you mine now,” I said quickly, almost patly, though it was true enough—I’d spent too many nights turning them over in bed. “I’m self-centered. Stubborn. I say the wrong thing more often than not.”
“What makes you so sure they’re the wrong things?”
I let out a small laugh. “The way people react. Now, your turn.”
“I’m not sure I believe yours,” he said. “Except for the stubborn part. That, I saw for myself.”
A roar rumbled through the distance, shaking the ground beneath my feet. “Are you worried about your friends?”
“Not in the slightest. We’ve been together a long time.”
The words formed a wall between us, one more barrier I would never be able to cross.
He stopped abruptly. “I’ll show you how we shape the rune.”
The rip pulsed behind us, alive, a steady hum in the air. The shifters said dragon senses made it unbearable, but was I supposed to feel it so keenly too? My skin prickled, a shiver tracing down my spine. I wouldn’t rest until it was sealed.
Fieran drew his knife and pressed it to the stone, muttering a few words in an unfamiliar tongue. Golden sparks flared where the blade cut, runes shaping themselves under his steady hands. His hands looked far older than his face, broad and calloused and scarred.
I wondered what Fieran really felt. If he felt as tired inside, as worn down, as his hands suggested he might.
It still felt there was a wall between us.
I stared in fascination as the chipped-away stone left behind a shining golden mark.
“To answer your question. My faults are many and varied. It depends on where we are. They’re different out here, with my friends, than on the training grounds with shifters. There I’ve cultivated a reputation where the other clans stumble over themselves to get out of my way because they see me as so merciless.”
