Sadness crossed his features, as if those years had been stolen from me somehow. Maybe they had, but against the list of things that had been stolen, that one didn’t even compute. “How did theymakeyou fae?” he asked.
I’d tried to explain thattheydidn’t do anything to me the day he’d woken up, but he wasn’t able to hear me then, and I wondered if he was ready to hear it now. We hadn’t spent any time alone since then, and I could only imagine the number of questions his mind was swimming with. If our roles had been reversed, it’s possible I would’ve drowned in them already.
Shifting in my seat to face him a little more, I said, “The fae didn’t change me, Tarrin. The Mother did.”
Deep creases formed between his brows. “The… Mother…” It wasn’t a question or a statement. Rather, it was as if he’d said it in hismind so many times that one of those disbelieving thoughts slipped into existence.
“Yes. The day after I’d left, I followed what I can only describe now as music. It was like the Mother had crafted her own personal siren song for me and I was helpless to ignore its summons. I communed with her, Tarrin. I laid my hands on the soft, colorful bark of her tree, and we became one.That’swhen she turned me.”
“Did it hurt?” he whispered, and this time the barely audible words weren’t because of the need for privacy.
I shook my head, remembering the dream state of connectedness we’d shared. “No. She healed me in the most beautiful way.”
“And…you’re okay with it? With being fae, I mean?”
I scoffed. “You know better than to ask that question. We both know it doesn’t matter what I’m okay with, Tarrin.”
“May our fate be kind…” he started.
“And may we be strong enough if it’s not,” I finished, repeating the toast I’d made during the first meal we’d shared.
“I’m sorry, Ny,” he said after a long pause. “I’m sorry for all of it.” Tarrin reached out his arm, bringing a hand up to cup my cheek. I blinked, and the hilt of a blade smacked across his knuckles.
Shocked, we both snapped our focus upward, finding a stone-faced Artton no more than a pace or so away. “Try to touch her again,human, and I’ll use the pointy end next time.”
With a swiftness I’d never witnessed from Tarrin, he snatched the blade and flicked it down, driving it harmlessly into the ground as he stood up, facing Artton at eye level.
“This doesn’t concern you,fae.” The warning rumble of Tarrin’s voice had me up on my feet and taking a few steps back. I glanced over to where the brothers were seated. Sidrick caught my attention and gave one definitive shake of his head, the message clear.They need to sort this out on their own.Stars above I hated that he was right, and now was a much better time than before we stepped into enemy territory. I took a few more steps away, putting me closer to Kaelun than the two hot-heads.
“It concerns, Nyleeria. So, it concerns me.” Artton’s tone was cold. Factual. Predatory.
“What are you, her little watchdog?”
Artton moved in, the two of them so close that their misting breaths competed for space. “I’d be very, very careful,” the summer fae said, accentuating each word with a finger pressing hard into Tarrin’s leathers, “how you speak to me, human. Theonlyreason I tolerate you is out of respect for her, and if she ever wants your pathetic existence to come to an end, I won’t hesitate to oblige.”
“What’s your fucken problem? Huh?” Tarrin said, then pushed Artton away with both hands, the summer commander forced to concede a step back to keep his balance, and the fact that he hadn’t been on solid footing in the first place was testament to just how much Tarrin crawled under his skin.
Kaelun had stepped around me, and on the other side of the fire, stood Sidrick. Both were readying to intervene if things went too far.
“You’re a coward,” Artton roared, pushing Tarrin back, then pointed an accusing finger at him. “Tell me, asshole, was it that you couldn’t disobey your precious king, or were you just too much of a coward?”
“Fuck you,” Tarrin spat. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
Artton’s cold, measured glare sent prickles down my spine, and I knew that Tarrin had stepped into whatever snare had been laid, and that the summer fae would delight in watching it rip his quarry apart. I sent a pleading look at Sidrick, who shook his head once. Nope. They weren’t going to intervene; we were playing this through.
“You’re right,” Artton said, his tone as lethal as his glare. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, but you damn welldohave to explain yourself to her—not some half-assed apology.” They both stole a glance in my direction, and I swallowed, suddenly feeling like this wasn’t going to end well forme.“And believe me when I say this,human, if you fucken dare spout some bullshit about how you wereat the mercy of Thaddeus’ will, I’ll valen you to the middle of the Winter Court myself and leave you there.”
“It’s not bullshit,” Tarrin roared.
Artton crossed his arms. “Isn’t it? Because seeing the memory for myself—dozens of times, I might add—I seem to recall that it wasyouthat stopped Thaddeus from ripping the spark away from her before he could forfeit her life in the process. So”—Artton stepped a little closer and leaned forward—"I’d be very careful when discerning the difference betweencan’tandwon’t, if I were you."
His words hit like they’d been intended for me, and I staggered back.
“Ny,” Tarrin called, moving toward me.
Artton was right. Tarrin had claimed hecouldn’tgo against Thaddeus’ will. But he had.We weren’t talking about Tarrin disobeying something minor—he’d gone against Thaddeus’ life mission to claim the spark. And he’d rescued mebeforeI’d severed the link.
My hand was resting against my chest as if it could hold me together. “He’s right,” I whispered, stopping Tarrin in his tracks a pace before Kaelun, who now stood between us. “He’s right, Tarrin,” I said again.
