The fae’s glare cut toward Mireth, his gaze sharpening as he saw the bloody scrapes on her legs, the dirt smudging her cheeks. His expression darkened, and he looked at me with an accusatory glint, as though her wounds were proof of some cruelty by my hand.
“What happened to her?” he asked.
I opened my mouth to respond, but Mireth was faster.
“My mama saved us,” she said, pointing back to the Veil. “She’s a hero too. We ran from monsters. She got us here safe.” Then, leaning towards him, her voice dropped to a hopeful whisper, “Are you Fenric the Fierce?”
A soft snort escaped Eryx, who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes. He grinned and pointed at the imposing fae. “Den… ric,” he babbled, beaming, face filled with admiration.
The fae blinked. His wings twitched faintly as he shifted his weight and muttered under his breath. A hint of exasperation crossed his features.
He turned his attention back to me.
“You crossed into my lands.” His head tilted. “You will not last alone.” A pause, deliberate. “Come with me. Or take your chances in the wilds.”
I didn’t answer.
Mireth nestled back against my side as she clutched my tunic. Eryx whimpered. A hollowness opened under my ribs. We wouldn’t survive the night alone.
I lowered the dagger slightly. Not surrender. Just acknowledgement.
“Fine,” I forced out. “And if you try anything?—”
A dry chuckle rumbled from him. “I’m already trembling.”
And without another word, he turned.
I adjusted Eryx on my hip, ready to trudge after him, but I hadn’t taken a step when Mireth’s small arms reached up. I parted my lips to tell her she needed to walk.
The fae looked down at Mireth.
He stepped closer and leaned down, scooping her up effortlessly.
My heart stalled. My mind screamed,move, grab her, don’t let go. But my legs locked, paralysed by her laughter. And then she was settled on his shoulders.
He didn’t flinch, though his jaw clenched as she tugged on his hair. He muttered again, a prayer or a curse, I couldn’t tell.
He didn’t try to set her down. That terrified me more than anything.
I should have ripped her from his arms. Screamed. Fought.
But I didn’t. Because in that moment, with Eryx heavy in my arms and my body hollowed by fear and fatigue, I let it happen.
Not because I trusted him. But because I couldn’t carry them both anymore. Because I needed five damn seconds to breathe.
Eryx giggled, delighted, and clapped his hands at the sight of Mireth atop the fae’s shoulders.
For a moment, it wasn’t a fae warrior carrying Mireth. It was my husband. Navaire. The pair of them laughing as Mireth rode high on his shoulders, her fingers tangled in his hair. Sunlight spilling through trees, gilding them both in gold.“Careful now, little bird,”he’d say, his laughter filling the air.“You’ll steer me straight into the river.”
When I looked up, the fae’s eyes were on me, almost wary, as if he’d stepped too close to something delicate and didn’t know how to hold it. But as quickly as it had come, his features steeled. He turned and headed deeper into the forest, his wings partially unfurled as he moved.
I adjusted my hold on Eryx and pressed a kiss to his hair. Then I followed the dark figure ahead, deeper into the wild heart of Aethermire.
He led without looking back, his stride cutting clean through the underbrush. Mireth, perched on his shoulder, peppered him with questions, her delicate voice bright in the forest’s quiet.
“Did you really save a village from a giant?” she asked.
His answers were clipped. A grunt. A nod. A word.
