They exchanged numbers, Ris adding Silva’s email address as well, promising she would reach out that week for coffee. “I have this thing I started here, and actually, you’re one of the elves I had in mind when I started mapping it all out. You can come to the next meeting and meet everyone!”
A soft, pleased smile turned up the corners of Silva’s mouth, her eyes shiny with tears again. Ris remembered how happy she had been to have been included in the plans Ris made with Lurielle, a lifetime of weekends ago. She wanted to ask a million questions, wanted to find out what had happened since Silva left town, wanted to question the parentage of the little elf at her side . . . but she recognized, in Silva’s eyes, the same look she occasionally saw in Caleia’s when they got together for planning. A desperate need to simply belong somewhere without feeling as though it were temporary.Later. You can ask her questions later.
“I’d really like that. It’s been . . . I’m really glad we ran into each other. I wasn’t sure what it was going to be like, coming back. We’re dropping stuff off at the condo and then going home to pack up a few more boxes. It’s a new unit, so they’re still putting in the plumbing, but we’ve already mostly moved in. Just a couple of days more now.”
“Yeah, me too. Glad, I mean. We’ve missed you so much, Silva. I think a happy reunion is pretty auspicious for your move. And I’msohappy you’re back. Good luck with your move, and we’ll definitely talk this week.” Ris turned her eyes down again to the little girl, the little elf with Tate’s face. “It was nice to meet you, Aelin. I hope I’ll see you and your mommy real soon, okay?”
Ris felt a panicked twist move through her when she turned away. There was no question in her mind who the father of Silva’s little girl was, not unless Tate had a twin brother who’d breezed through town.But how is that even possible?She was grateful Ainsley had given them space, finding him further down the aisle, waiting.Great. Just what you need.A rehash of an old argument about something that doesn’t even make sense for him to be mad over.
“Silva?”
Ris turned her face up, forcing a smile. “Yeah! She-she’s moving back to the area. It’s really nice to see her. What’s left on our list? We’re supposed to be looking for honey, right?” They turned in unison as she hooked her arm around his, attempting to change the subject with a note of finality. For a moment, it seemed to work. They made it all the way to the aisle’s end before Ainsley stopped short, thrusting the dog’s leash and her hands.
“Just . . . just wait here. I have to do this.”
“Ains,pleasedon’t—”
He spun away, not giving her a chance to stop him. Ris closed her eyes.Please don’t make a scene. Please don’t start something that’s going to cause an argument for us. We’re in such a good place. I don’t want to fight. Fitz pushed his face into her leg, staring up with his big, shining eyes, tail swishing. “If your daddy gets tossed in lock-up for being disorderly and causing a scene with a little girl, we’re leaving him there for the night.”
She thought Fitz seemed to agree.
When Ainsley came loping back up the aisle a few minutes later, Ris was beside herself. She probably looked like she was doing the bathroom dance, hopping from foot to foot, the dog beside her doing a better job of keeping still. His dark eyebrows were knit together in consternation, his hands clenching andunclenching at his sides, taking the leash from her hand without a word.
“Ainsley—”
“I had to apologize to her,” he blurted, his words silencing her. “I was . . . really awful to her for no real good reason.”
“Yeah. Yeah, you were.”
He ducked his head, nodding silently after a moment. “We talked about it in therapy. I thought I was just being a good friend, but . . . she didn’t deserve that, and I needed to apologize.”
The panicked feeling dissolved, and Ris melted against his side, tightening her grip on his arm, her eyes fluttering closed. “I’mreallyglad you did that, babe. If only you had a sexy, brilliant girlfriend who told you the same thing a million times. I’m glad you talked about it in therapy, though. I think you probably needed that as much as she did.”
“I mean, she basically told me to go fuck myself and get away from her,” he choked out, that hard bark of laughter making a return after so long, making her wince.Definitely not the same Silva. “But I earned that, so . . .”
He was quiet for a moment as they continued, the honey forgotten, making it all the way to the doors. They were in line for the scoop truck, Fitz swishing his tail in anticipation, before Ainsley spoke again.
“Did you clock her kid?”
Ris closed her eyes, turning her face into his arm for a moment, breathing him in. The ghost in her kitchen was gone, and she wasn’t interested in his return. “Yeah, babe. I did.”
Ainsley nodded, his jaw tight, but said nothing else. It was the best outcome she could’ve hoped for at the moment, Ris supposed, sliding out her phone as Fitz gobbled up his pup cup, tapping on Lurielle’s name.
You need to call me.
This is NOT a drill.
Silva’s back.
Tate
The hunt was a horror that he only revisited in his nightmares occasionally. Tate didn’t know if that was because he had compartmentalized the trauma so thoroughly it was buried deep or because all theotherhorrors he had experienced had simply outrun it in the end. After all, he had gotten off rather easily, all things considered.
Even still, he remembered that night as if it were still unfolding around him, like a play.
The frantic girl with terrified eyes, who thought that if she begged enough, she would be spared. The lagomorph who attempted to be brave, although he had been unable to prevent the quiver in his chin from betraying his fear. A human from a village that shared a border with one of the gates, a large man with a ringing voice, who thought his largeness counted here on the other side of the veil. And him — tall and slender like a new tree, being punished for the transgression ofdisrespect.
Tate was routinely disrespectful, and he couldn’t even remember what particular incident had prompted his inclusion in the hunt that night. Only that his grandsire had been preparedto kill him where he stood, in front of the whole court, Her Majesty urging benevolence towards her favourite pet . . . by hunting him for sport, instead.Favoreddid not meansafe.
