Every path I glimpsed ended up with Ginger being yanked from my arms.
I still smelled like her—like naked skin and warm, sweet honey. The best scent in all the realms. I hoped to smell like her for the rest of my days.
Visions of the previous night flashed through my mind.
I ingrained her into my memory, begging my broken mind not to lose her. Not to crumble into dust again, and leave me without any of my new, precious memories.
The suns rose despite my pleas.
Eventually, Ginger began to stir, and her sweet voice drifted out to meet me. “Shade?” she asked, throat thick with sleep.
I smiled at the sound. “Yes, love?”
She rounded the corner, finally stepping into view.
Her auburn hair was mussed and rumbled, snarled around her antlers. She lazily tossed a dressing gown around her shoulders and then scrubbed at her sleepy eyes with gentle fists. “Good morning,” she mumbled.
“Good morning to you. Sleep well?”
She glanced up shyly to meet my gaze. Her cheeks warmed. “Best sleep I’ve had in ages, if I’m being honest. But I’m still tired.”
“Go back to sleep,” I suggested.
She shook her head a little too quickly. “No. No, I’m fine. I justneed some tea.”
I nodded. “Of course. Allow me.”
I set about making her favorite tea—elderberry and mint. I opened the cabinet and grabbed her favorite mug, the brown one with the little chip in the handle. I started the water to boiling and plucked the tea container from the basket, finding the one I was looking for without any thought. It was pleasant work; she kept her things so neatly arranged.
The water came to boil quickly.
I set the tea before her when it was ready, and then glanced up to meet her gaze.
Horror drenched her features.
Her jaw was slack, her face pale, hands clenching the edge of the table.
Suddenly alert, I scanned the room for intruders. Nothing was amiss. “What?” I asked. “What happened?”
I reached to take her hand, but she snatched it from me.
Her voice was trembling when she finally spoke. “How did you know?” she asked.
“Know what?”
She gestured a shaking hand to the mug, to the cabinets. “How did you know?” she repeated.
The blood drained from my face.
I was so stupid. So fuckingstupid.
She hadn’t shown me where her tea supplies were.
She hadn’t even told me what her favorite items were.
I had gotten too comfortable—my secrets were exposed.
I scrambled for an excuse, something to cover myself with. Maybe I just woke up early and was snooping, but that wouldn’t explain everything.
