And then there’s the Court of Fear,Kelai had said,where most souls are haunted by their biggest regrets.
“They won’t harm us,” I decide aloud, carefully transferring Yue to Sooah so that I can free up my arms to climb inside. Once my feet are planted, I take Yue back, holding on to her protectively.
As I suspected, the shades don’t move toward us. If anything, they seem to press themselves up against the corner, cowering.
I take in our surroundings. This house can only boast a small gathering area and a single bedroom shunted off toward the back. Neither Sooah nor Wen argue when I take Yue directly there.
“Seal the way,” I instruct them. “We won’t be here long, but we best not risk any unwanted surprises.”
Wen nods. “But what about these things?” he asks, gesturing to the shades. “They’re unnerving.”
“Keep an eye on them, but leave them be.”
I nudge the thin wooden door to the bedroom open with my foot, relieved to see that there’s a small bed to lay Yue on. There are no pillows or blankets in sight, but it’s as good a place to restas any. Given all we’ve been through, a safe place to sleep and four walls for privacy is, frankly, a luxury.
I sit on the edge of Yue’s bed and watch her sleep, observing and then admiring the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. I absentmindedly reach out to brush a few strands of hair from her face, noting the curl of her lashes and the gentle slope of her nose. The mask I painted for her is nothing short of a marvel, but that’s not why I’m transfixed.
She once terrified me. And in some ways, she terrifies me still. But now it’s not her teeth or her claws or her tongue lashings I fear, but that my heart is beginning to crave her warmth, the feel of her fingers pressed against mine, the fleeting glances she thinks I haven’t noticed.
At the end of the day, I’m still a hunter. What will become of us when we finally leave this place?
If Yue returns to the mortal realm with us, there’s no question that she’d have to return to the hunt. I’d be condemning innocent humans to her jaws.
She is at her most vulnerable now. To save those innocents, all I’d have to do is reach for one of my daggers and be through with it. But guilt won’t let me do that, not after everything we’ve been through and everything she’s done for us.
As I wrestle with my heart and my duty, a terrible pressure grows behind my eyes.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t deserve to sit by her side.
“Careful, Captain. You look like your head’s about to burst.”
I glance down at Yue and chuckle softly. Her eyes are open a crack. “What are you talking about?” I ask. “I always look like this.”
She rolls onto her side to face me better, our hands barely a whisper apart. “You’ll lose your hair if you don’t manage your stress better,” she murmurs. Yue lifts her little finger, and I reply by brushing the pad of my thumb along her fingertip.
“How long was I asleep?”
“We have time.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I know, but I’m telling you that we have time.”
She sighs. “Sonam, I’m—”
“How are you feeling?” I ask, unsure why my heart insists on pounding so loudly. A part of me is worried that Yue can hear it, her ears no doubt sharper than most.
She presses her lips into a thin line. “I’m cold.”
I take her hand, carefully threading my fingers between hers. “Better?”
She shakes her head. “Still cold.”
I pull my legs up onto the small bed and lie down next to her, holding her hand flat against my chest. There’s still a whisper of space between us, yet that gap might as well be an endless void because I’m nowhere as close as I wish to be. “And now?” I ask, my throat uncharacteristically tight.
She slips her hand out from beneath mine and reaches up, using her fingers to trace over my chin. Her cheeks are flushed pink. “Much better,” she murmurs. “Although…”
“Yes?”
