As the white witch walked away, Myanin made her way to a flat rock at the edge of the firelight and eased herself down, the crumpled drawing still clutched in her hand. She stared out into the darkness, her thoughts a tangled mess of memories and emotions she wanted to cram back into the box they’d come pouring out of. The faint hum of the others’ voices buzzed in the background, but she tuned them out. She needed space. She needed time to think. And most of all, she needed everyone to leave her the hell alone.
Unfortunately, Peri didn’t seem to get the memo.
The fae materialized beside her like a silent wraith, her presence as subtle as a hurricane. Myanin didn’t look at her, but she felt the weight of Peri’s keen gaze, like the woman was peeling back the layers of her mind with sheer force of will.
“Torion told me about the picture,” Peri said matter-of-factly. That was how Peri operated—direct and to the point. She didn’t really give two shits one way or the other if it wasn’t her business. Myanin had learned in her time around the high fae that she pretty much thought everything was her business.
Myanin didn’t respond. Maybe if she ignored her, Peri would get bored and go bother someone else. There’s a first time for everything.
No such luck.
“Let’s see it.” Peri held out her hand expectantly.
“It’s not your business, Perizada. As hard as that might be for you to understand,” Myanin said, finally glancing at her. “You can take your nosy, fae fingers and keep them to yourself.”
Peri chuckled, not the least bit deterred. “You know, I’ve been called a lot of things in my very long life, but ‘nosy, fae fingers’ is a new one. I think I like it. And everything that has to do with everyone in my immediate vicinity is my business. Oh look, here you are right next to me, so that makes it doubly my business.”
“I can move.” Myanin muttered and turned her gaze back to the darkness.
Peri leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a tone that was both coaxing and unrelenting. “Look, I’m not trying to pry?—”
“You’reliterallyprying. There is no trying. Youare.” Myanin shot Peri an exasperated look.
“Fine.” Peri shrugged. “I’m prying. But, again, it’s my job to pry. It’s my job to know what’s going on with my people, and like it or not, you are one of my people. At least until I can give you back to Lilly, then you can be her problem, I mean,peopleagain.”
Myanin clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening around the crumpled paper. “This doesn’t affect anyone but me.”
Peri raised a brow, her peridot eyes narrowing. “That’s where you’re wrong. Whatever’s got you looking like you’ve seen a ghost from the past clearly has you rattled, and a rattled Myanin is not something we can afford right now. A rattled Myanin is even more unpredictable than Batshit-Crazy Myanin. And Batshit Myanin is a piece of work. So now I’m not going to ask. Give me the damn drawing, or I’ll zap your ass. You’ve known me long enough to know how zappy I am.”
Myanin hesitated, her instincts warring with her better judgment. She didn’t want Peri to see it, didn’t want to open that door any wider than it already was. She didn’t want anyone to see any emotions that had been tied to someone before Gerick. She already felt like she was betraying him. But she also knew Peri well enough to know the woman wouldn’t let it go. The fae was like a dog with a bone—relentless, stubborn, and impossible to shake off once she’d latched onto something.
With a heavy sigh, Myanin smoothed the paper and handed it over. “Fine. But if you make any snide comments, I’m shoving you off this cliff.”
“Noted.” Peri took the drawing with a flicker of amusement in her eyes. The amusement faded quickly as she studied the image, her expression changing into something far more serious.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Peri murmured, her gaze lingering on the shadowy figure. “I recognize who this is.”
Myanin stiffened, her stomach twisting. “No, you don’t.” She heard the petulant child in her voice that made it clear that she didn’t like the idea of Peri knowing him.
Peri’s eyes snapped to hers, a cunning gleam in their depths. “It’s Shade, isn’t it? He’s a very well-known djinn warrior.”
The way she said his name, so casually and yet so certain, made Myanin’s chest tighten. She wanted to deny it, to tell Peri she was wrong, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she looked away, her silence speaking volumes.
“Thought so.” Peri’s folded the paper neatly and handed it back. “Care to explain why seeing him has you acting like a cat who’s been tossed into a bath?”
“How many different ways do I have to say this is not your business?” Myanin shoved the drawing into her pocket.
“And how many times do I have to remind you that short of what happens in the bedrooms with you mated pairs, everything is my business, especially if this male is showing up in your future. That means it will more than likely affect the rest of us. Unless you plan to run off on your own and leave the rest of us behind,” Peri shot back, crossing her arms. “You don’t get to brush this off, Myanin. Not when it’s clearly a big deal.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Myanin snapped. “He’s just … someone I used to know.”
Peri tilted her head, her gaze piercing. “Again, I’m calling bullshit. This male is more than just someone you used to know. Shade is someone who obviously left his mark on you. Perhaps you haven’t thought of him in a very long time, maybe you even forced yourself to forget him. Yes, you have a mate now, but that could be making this even worse. Whatever Shade is to you, he is not nothing. So try again.”
Myanin let out a bitter laugh, standing abruptly and pacing a few steps away. “How has nobody taken you out yet? You’re annoying as hell. You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“Oh, believe me, they’ve tried. But I’m like a cockroach. I simply refuse to die. And I don’t quit on anyone who I think is worth my time. Despite your jacked-up past, you’re worth my time. You’ve proven yourself, and others have come to care for you. Therefore, I’ve got your back. And this? This feels important to you, and that means it’s important to me. So spill.”
Myanin stopped, her back to Peri, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She felt the weight of the fae’s gaze, the unrelenting pressure of her presence, and for a moment, she thought about telling her everything. About the memories that wouldn’t stop haunting her, about the way Shade had once made her feel alive and terrified all at once, about the mistakes she’d made that had driven him away.
