Fox sighs and closes his eyes, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I didn’t tell them because I didn’t think it fucking mattered.” I open my mouth to argue again, but he cuts me off before I can get a word out. “There is no magic in Dyaspora. It’s blocked, so Fae can’t use their powers against the guards and no one can use their wings to escape. I couldn’t transform or use any of my other wolf senses.”
“But even if you couldn’t shift, you’re still a shifter, right? I’m assuming you couldn’t use your wings either, but that doesn’t make you not Fae.”
“In Thermia, half-breeds aren’t treated very well,” he says, tonelessly. “Everyone assumed I was Fae, and I didn’t see areason to correct them. Dyaspora is supposed to be a life sentence. I didn’t think it would matter.”
My eyes widen. How badly must a half-Fae be treated in Thermia that he’d never even tell his friends? I’m certain that Daemon, Kastian and Jett wouldn’t have cared. I’m not even sure why anyone would care to begin with.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone when you got out?” I ask, my voice lowering back to something closer to its usual volume.
“I just didn’t.” He shrugs dismissively, then winces when he jostles his injured shoulder.
My eyes snap to his wound. “That doesn’t look like it’s healing.”
“It will,” he says stubbornly. “I once held my stomach together like this until all my insides knit back together.”
My mouth falls open, and I shake my head. “I have so many questions.”
He makes a chuffing sound in the back of his throat. “May as well ask now; I’m not moving until this heals.”
I glance sideways at him. “Fine. What the hell are you doing here?”
“Can’t I go for a walk in the woods?”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t know why you’d offer to answer my questions and then lie.”
“I thought you’d ask about being a shifter.”
I roll my eyes. “If you think I’m going to forget to come back to what you’re doing here you’re delirious from blood loss, but fine. What did you mean when you said you couldn’t use your wolf senses in Dyaspora?”
“Like I said, there was no magic.”
“No, I mean, what senses do you have that are better than normal Fae?”
“Oh.” His eyes widen with comprehension, then he looks pained, as if he’s searching for the right words and not findingthem. “Lots of small things. My hearing and vision are better, and I heal faster than most.” He nods toward his arm as if I could forget the gaping wound that I caused, but he won’t let me heal.
“What else?” I ask tightly.
“I don’t know. Most of the other changes were just because I was separated from other wolves and living with Fae for the first time since I was very young.”
“Like what?”
“Like…talking out loud. That was different. Wolf packs are telepathic.”
“That makes sense,” I comment blithely. He raises an eyebrow and I shrug. “What? It does. Did you know that sirens are telepathic too? That’s how they communicate underwater. Dragons are too, I think. Actually, now that I think about it, there are a lot of telepathic species, at least according to my books. You’re not special.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Noted.”
The back of my neck heats. “I meant you’re not unusual.”
“Right, well, since I lived with wolves my whole life, I wasn’t used to speaking out loud. It’s been years now, and I still don’t like it.”
I cock my head. “Interesting. I always assumed you were just grumpy.”
He laughs under his breath. “That too.”
“I must be a nightmare for you then,” I say, half-joking. “I know I talk way too much; I don’t know how you ever put up with listening to it.”
He blinks at me, but doesn’t say anything. We fall into silence, and I stare into the woods behind him, suddenly wishing more than anything that I were telepathic too.
