Idon’twant to go back. I don’t want to escape.
And … I’m jealous.
I’m jealous of the fae around Cairn who can reach out to him without worrying about what others will think. Who can touch him without it being about power or control. Who can hold him and be held back. Who belong somewhere, to someone.
The realization should horrify me. Instead, it makes me sad.
How did I get here? How did I get from being terrified of him to wanting him to put his arms around me? Is it because I wanthim, or because I want what he has? Open affection and warmth. People who love him fiercely.
The door opening pulls me out of my thoughts and my eyes snap open, half-expecting it to be Cairn. It’s not. A human woman steps through the door, carrying a tray.
“Food and tea.” She gives me a bright smile. “If you need anything else, please come downstairs.”
“Thank you.” I don’t tell her that Cairn warded the door so I won’t be able to open it.
She gives me another smile, then leaves me alone again.
I stare at the tray for a long moment before I make myself get up. There’s a bowl of stew, with crusty bread, and a pitcher of hot tea. As soon as the smell reaches me, my stomach wakes up, and I dive into the food like I haven’t eaten in weeks.
Once the bowl is empty and the bread is gone, I return to the chair by the fire, my hands wrapped around the mug of tea, and wonder what is happening with Cairn and the others. Are they making plans? Talking about things I don’t understand?Rebuilding connections that were lost when he was captured and collared.
The collars.
I sit upright.
I watched Therin and Vel break the collars on the fae in the wagon. They released all six of them … and never drank a drop of the blood from the guards they were using.
But Cairn drankmine.
He pressed his mouth to the cut on my palm and lapped at the blood. My mind shies away from how I responded to that. That isn’t important right now. Whatisimportant is thathedrank my blood … and everything strange started happening after.
Seeing through his eyes. His voice in my head. My body responding to his presence. The pull on the hill that dragged me toward him.
Did drinking my blood create this? Did it build some kind of connection? Did he do it on purpose?
I set the cup down, my hands unsteady.
It all fits, doesn’t it? It all started there … with my blood on his lips.
THIRTY-SIX
CAIRN
The room Kaelithleads me to is at the end of the hallway. Therin, Vel, Sorel, and Vessara are already inside, seated in the chairs scattered around. The fire is blazing in the hearth, and the table is covered in an assortment of food and drink. Kaelith takes a seat near to Vel. I remain standing.
Five of my Guard are in this room and two more are back at the camp.
Seven.
Seven out of the twelve that make up the Nightwild Guard.
At least one is dead. I know that as fact. The Nightwild magic wouldn’t be reaching for Alleria if there wasn’t an empty place in the Guard. It means that four are unaccounted for.
If they were free, I’d know it. I’d feel them the same way I felt Kaelith and the others pulling at me for days. They’re either collared somewhere, or they’re dead and the magic doesn’t know it yet.
I take a deep breath and turn to Kaelith. “Report.”
Kaelith straightens in his chair.
