“It was. A shame your first time here was in such poor company. What did you see in him, anyway? The eye thief?”
She nearly choked on the wine. In her reverie, Cecil had been the furthest topic from her mind. Upon recovering from her coughing fit, Helspira shrugged, smiling. “I don’t know. I think after fleeing all that hate in Chthonia, I was just a little too eager to find love, you know? When Cecil looked me in the eyes, I thought I saw longing. Turns out, all he longed for was my actual eye. Still, he was the only one who could look at me without fear. In hindsight, my standards may have been a bit low.”
“I see. And how high are your standards now?”
Helspira laughed, holding a flat hand at chest level. “I don’t know. Maybe about here?”
Cupping his chin, Catseye appeared to contemplate something before hovering his hand over hers. “May I?”
She could almost feel the chill radiating from his palm. How did such cold skin cause her to flush with heat? “S—sure.”
With careful precision, he slid his hand beneath hers and raised it until neither of them could reach higher. “There,” he said, seemingly pleased with the new placement as his gaze drifted back to hers. “That’s better, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” she whispered, lost in the green eyes that were inches from her own. “Yes. Definitely.”
He smiled, and the sting of his hand’s absence burned when he let her go. “Glad we got that settled. Well, it’s barely night, but this aging body is tired and far too excited to sleep in a real bed. You won’t feel unsafe if I leave the door unlocked for Ben?”
“Not at all.”
“Excellent. Goodnight, Helspira.”
As he bowed and headed for the door, she gripped her scarf. “Goodnight, Sikras.”
Her words halted him in an instant, and he sent a curious look over his shoulder. “I thought you preferredCatseye.”
“I know a lot of people are counting on the Cat’s Eye, but”—her fingers curled tighter around her scarf—“I’ve come to strongly prefer the company of Sikras.”
He said nothing. Only favored her with a slow, kind smile. Sikras gave a final nod of acknowledgment before vanishing into the room.
Oh, gods, gods, gods, what was she getting herself into? Helspira dragged her hands through her hair, turned away to grasp the wine bottle, and purged a long drink that she hoped would dull her senses.
Pfft. As if they weren’t dulled enough already. They must’ve been for her to have ended up in this mess. She sighed, pressed her back into the balcony wall, and slid to the floor.
It had always been easy to follow her heart. What in the world was a demon to do when circumstances ripped that heart in two entirely different directions?
Thethunkof a bird landing on the balcony spared her from those thoughts for all of two seconds. Helspira gawked at the creature, black feathers mangled. It hopped closer to the door where Sikras had disappeared through, then surveyed her, head twisting, until it was almost upside down.
Weird little thing. Helspira wrinkled her nose. “I don’t supposeyouhave any advice for me?”
The bird let out a shrillcawand took flight, abandoning her to her problem.
Helspira tucked her knees toward her chest. “I figured.”
Two lives over thousands. She was no mathematician, but the right choice was glaringly obvious.
She would have to suck it up. No thinking, no emotions, just power through the discomfort. Just like she did in Chthonia. It had worked for her before, and it would work again.
Maybe if she said that enough times, she would start to believe it.
