"I'm not—" I begin automatically, then stop myself. What's the point of denying it anymore? "Is it that obvious?"
Her laugh is gentle rather than mocking. "Only to anyone with eyes, ears, or basic observational skills. You look at him like he hung the moon instead of occasionally using it for ritualistic shadow magic."
I take the vial from her, studying the liquid inside. Once, I would have given anything for this—freedom from the bond that connects me to Malakai. Now, the thought of severing that connection makes my chest ache.
"I'll keep it," I decide, tucking it into a concealed fold in my gown. "But I don't think I'll…"
My sentence cuts off as a fresh surge of sickness hits me. I barely make it to the bathroom before emptying the contents of my stomach into a basin. Ivy follows, holding my hair back.
"There, there," she soothes, her small hand rubbing circles on my back. "Just let it all out. Though preferably not on my new slippers—they're made from moonbeam silk, very hard to clean."
Even in my misery, I manage a weak laugh. "Your concern is touching."
"I'm a fairy of many talents. Sympathy, fashion advice, and holding back hair while my favorite Omega vomits her guts out." She hands me a damp cloth. "Not necessarily in that order."
When the bout passes, Ivy helps me to my feet. "You need some fresh air. This room smells like a combination of shadow magic, misery, and early Omega pregnancy. Which cannot be helping."
I don't argue, letting her guide me through the palace corridors and out into the eastern garden. The twilight breeze is cool against my flushed skin, the scent of night-blooming flowers surprisingly soothing.
"Better?" Ivy asks as I take a deep breath.
"A little," I admit, moving toward a stone bench beneath an ancient tree whose leaves shimmer with faint silver light.
We've just settled when Ivy suddenly tenses beside me. "Company incoming," she murmurs, nodding toward the far end of the garden.
Malakai and Emmett walk along a shadowed path, their heads bent close in what appears to be an intense conversation. Even from this distance, I can see the tension in Malakai's shoulders, the tight set of his jaw.
"I don't want him to see me like this," I murmur, shrinking back against the tree. "He'll start fussing, and I can't handle his Alpha hovering right now. Not until I understand what's happening."
Ivy studies the pair, her head tilted. "Their conversation seems heated. Emmett looks worried—more than usual, I mean. That man's default expression is 'mildly concerned.'" She sighs dramatically, her wings fluttering faster. "Though I must say, concern looks exceptionally good on him. Have you noticed how his forehead creases just so when he's troubled? And those shoulders..."
I turn to her in surprise, catching an unmistakable gleam in her eyes. "Ivy! Are you attracted to Emmett?"
Her silver-blonde locks suddenly shift to a telling pink, and she coughs delicately. "I have eyes, don't I? Just because he's Shadow Court doesn't mean I can't appreciate the view. That man wears authority like a second skin." She fans herself theatrically. "Besides, there's something irresistible about someone who can maintain perfect posture while constantly surrounded by chaos."
I stare at her, momentarily distracted from my troubles. In all our time together, I've never heard Ivy express genuine interest in anyone.
"I had no idea," I say.
"Don't look so shocked," she scoffs, though her hair remains tellingly pink. "Even fairies have taste. And speaking of taste—" She turns back to the approaching men with renewed interest.
Before I can stop her, Ivy rises from the bench. "Give me a minute."
"Ivy, no—" I reach for her, but she's already shimmering into invisibility. "You shouldn't eavesdrop!"
I sit back with a sigh, feeling marginally better as the cool evening air continues to work its magic on my unsettled stomach. Still, an underlying queasiness remains, along with a bone-deep fatigue that's unlike anything I've experienced before.
My cycle has always been regular—a necessity for an assassin who cannot afford to be caught off guard. And yet, I missed my heat. Once could be attributed to stress. Twice is another matter entirely.
And then there are the other changes I've been trying to ignore. The way certain smells make me gag. The strange urges to reorganize my chambers, to seek out softer fabrics, to nest.
I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't notice Ivy's return until she materializes directly in front of me, an annoyed expression on her face.
"Well?" I ask. "What were they discussing?"
Ivy rolls her eyes dramatically. "Boy chat, mostly. Very dull. But I think Shadow Boy sensed me there—his shadows did this weird twitchy thing and started reaching in my direction." She shudders. "I had to leave before he caught me. He's getting better at detecting my presence, which is both impressive and inconvenient."
Through my nausea, I find myself laughing. "Boy chat? What does that even mean?"
