This was the life of a Rae. Having a heart never did a Rae any good.
Endreas moved back to the dressing table, skirting her, setting down his cup.
“Even before I was almost thrown to my death,” she said to his back, “I never liked heights.”
He sank down into a chair of wood bent into water-smooth sinuous lines. “I can’t take you back. Not for a day or two. You’re welcome to stay with me until I’m strong enough to move through the Shadow Realms, if you’d like.”
Yes. She would very much like to crawl into his lap and lick every inch of his body until she knew what he tasted like from the tips of his toes to the tips of his ears—and every tip in between.
But Kaelan was in danger. Damion would be worried and furious. And where was Hero? She needed to find him.
Tamia expected her to act.
Lavana rode to the Spire.
Ouda needed her to protect the small folk.
And her feelings for Endreas... she could resist them. She had to.
“Wouldn’t your father find out about me if I stayed?” she asked.
His gaze lowered to the polished stone floors between them—like dark mirrors, scrying discs showing a future clouded by doubt.
Her eyes turned back to Gur.
Deep breath, Magda.
She took a step towards the doors.
“Wait,” he said.
He pushed out of his chair. From a wardrobe that looked like a tree sprouting upon the wall, he removed a long black coat. His eyes were half-open, his gait sluggish. He held it out to her.
“It’s cold when you fly,” he said.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll ruin it?” she asked, gesturing to her filthy, torn, and blood-splattered clothes, which he hadn’t cleaned. Perhaps he was too tired, or maybe he was just tired of fighting a losing battle.
“I have many coats.” His eyes fluttered as if about to close. “Please, don’t argue. Just take it.”
She slid it on—wool on the outside and silk on the inside. “Thank you. Goodbye—”
“No,” he cut in. “It’s not. I’m coming for you, Magpie.”
“You mean you’ll be following me?”
“I don’t need to follow you. I am always with you. I will always find you.”
She slid her arms into the coat, a tremor passing through her chest as the sweet musk of his scent surrounded her. Broad-shouldered as she was, the coat was loose over her back.
While she’d told herself she wouldn’t, she couldn’t seem to stop. She kissed him again, deeply, tongue taking one more taste, palms absorbing the rhythm of his heart. She broke away, but he caught the back of her head.
“Stay the night,” he said, his voice rough as though it were speaking against the will of his throat. “Please.”
Her fingers dug against his chest. “Come with me.”
Fingers trailing, his hand left her. She stepped back, heart quailing.
“Goodbye, Endreas.”
