“Do you people no longer tell tales of us?” asks Dyfri.
I frown. “A bit?” What has this got to do with anything?
Dyfri tuts in disgust. “Humans knew to be wary of us once. Horseshoes over doorways to keep as away. Salt circles. Wands made of rowan wood.”
He falls silent. The fire crackles, and his clever hands keep working, winding and winding soft clean bandages over me. Why is he telling me this? If iron and salt and other stuff can be used against fey, that means all fey. Not just Iestyn. Why would Dyfri give me such power? What if I escape and join the Resistance?
Dyfri ties the bandage off. I already feel so much better. A lot of the pain has already gone.
I turn around to face him. “Thank you,” I say.
He nods without looking at me and starts winding up the unused length of bandage. I hate that he is still so surprised every time I thank him. Is that why he is dropping hints to help me? Because I treat him with common decency?
“Do those things really work?” I ask hesitantly.
His hands fall still. His dark eyes stare at me. “There is a reason humans were able to drive us out and reclaim their world.”
My mind goes blank. I thought the fey left because they got bored, and then their realm drifted too far away for the portals to work? At least, that’s what the news reports said. Though, if what Dyfri is saying is true, of course the fey are going to want to paint that kind of picture.
I swallow. “Why…why are you telling me?”
Dyfri’s eyes narrow. “You think I like Iestyn?”
Oh. My. God. Of course. I’m such an idiot. Mabon told me the full story of how Rhydian killed the man who made Dyfri a rhocyn, but how that man was merely working for Iestyn.
For some reason, I had kind of thought that Dyfri might not know. But now, staring into his dark eyes, that was clearly a stupid conclusion. Dyfri knowseverything. About everyone. He probably knows what I had for breakfast.
“Thank you!” I exclaim as I throw my arms around him hard enough to make him stagger.
“Don’t fuck it up,” he grumbles as he accepts my hug.
But I can hear the affection in his voice. I can feel it in his, admittedly stiff, body language.
I’m going to get that bastard Iestyn. For Rhydian. And for my friend. And for everyone else he has ever hurt.
Chapter thirty-six
Trying to sleep when you are a bag of nerves is super hard, but it is the best plan I can come up with, so I need to keep trying.
Dyfri bitched about human’s slow healing capabilities after I had spent a few hours in his room. He concluded that despite his magic ointments, I wouldn’t be fully healed until morning.
Which isn’t too bad. I just have to get through tonight without Rhydian noticing my cut up back. And if he doesn’t decide to ravish me, I think it is doable. Especially if I’m all tucked up in bed and sleeping sweetly when he gets back. The chances of him waking me up to have his wicked way, are slim. I hope. I think he has grown too soft for me to do that. So everything is fine. If only my racing heart believed this.
My hands fidget with my nightshirt again. Maybe I should take it off? I have never worn one before and I’m still unsure if it will arouse suspicion or keep things hidden from sight.
Pinky went and fetched it for me when I asked for one. It didn’t seem to make her suspicious at all. So maybe it is fine? Maybe Rhydian will simply think I’ve had enoughof sleeping naked and have grown confident enough to ask for a nightshirt?
Gah! This is a nightmare! I cannot wait for the morning when this will all be over. As well as the stress, the skin on my back is all itchy and uncomfortable. Dyfri and I decided to take the bandages off as they were far too noticeable, and now the feel of the nightshirt against my damaged skin is deeply unpleasant.
A soft noise from just outside the bedroom door has me scrunching up my eyes tight. The door opens. Near silent footsteps approach the bed. I need to concentrate on making my breath slow and even.
Silence. Thick and heavy. In the distance, the sound of an airplane cuts through the night air. It is so strange to think that I am still in London.
“Have you forgotten that I am a dream walker, Little Pet?” rumbles Rhydian. “I know the taste of sleep.”
Oh fuck. My eyes fly open and I gulp. Rhydian is standing near the bed. His arms crossed over his chest.
“Sorry, I…I,” I stammer. “I…um have a headache and didn’t fancy any frisky business tonight.”
