She doesn’t let me finish. “Good, then it’s settled. You and I will go up and find Phillipa, fill her in on things, and give her the opportunity to come with us. If she doesn’t believe us, you’ll blur back here for Arina.”
I groan. There will be no winning with these two.
“Let’s get this over with,” I say, taking Lavinia’s elbow.
“I’ll be here waiting!” Arina chimes as I blur us to the outskirts of Spoikos.
We land, and I hold Lavinia steady so she doesn’t topple over into the dirt.
When she finds her footing, I let go and begin the quick walk from the forest into the town.
Lavinia coughs. “Gods, it’s awful! How do you breathe this shit?”
“Cover your mouth and nose with the cloak. It will help,” I tell her, and head for the barmaid’s house. I don’t envy her, being hit with the Smog in full force for the first time is a feeling she won't soon forget.
I knock on the door of the quaint cottage and wait.
Phillipa opens the door, wearing an apron that she’s currently using to dry a teacup. Her dark curly hair hangs loose around herface, and she leans against the doorframe. “How can I—whoa. Sorry. You both are just … really good looking.” She stares, dumbfounded in her doorway.
“We’re friends of Arina’s. Can we come in?” Lavinia asks, and the female’s face falls.
“That's not fucking funny,” she says, her tone dark. She sets the teacup on a small table near the door, and picks up a piece of wood as thick as my arm. She raises it with one hand and lets it fall into the other with a thwack.
I put myself between Phillipa and Lavinia, bracing myself for her to swing at me, but she doesn’t.
“Gods alive,” Phillipa whispers. “You’re him! You’re the stranger Arina danced with at the banquet.”
Relief washes over me. “Yes! Yes. That’s me. Arina is safe. I can take you to her—"
“She's alive? Explain.” She shoves the end of the piece of wood in my face.
“It's a long story. One Arina would like to tell you herself,” Lavinia tells her.
Phillipa nods. “Okay. But I'm bringing the stick.”
“GODS, ARINA! YOUR hair!” Phillipa yells when she sees my mate, gently flicking the end of Arina's hair.
Both females are crying and laughing at the same time as they embrace and touch their foreheads together in a moment that feels too intimate to witness. My chest tightens, and I busy myself by pretending to adjust my leathers.
“Do you like it?” Arina makes a show of flipping her shorter hair so it brushes her shoulders.
“I love it. Gods! I just can’t even believe you’re alive.” She shakes her head, and Arina wipes a tear from her friend’s cheek.
They curl up on the bed together, and Lavinia and I take it as our cue to leave, giving them the space they need.
As we arrive in the main hub, there is a commotion. Panicked shouts send me into a sprint without thinking.
The source of the disturbance is a golden-haired male I had hoped to never see again. Captain Loverboy is on his knees in the tunnel. His hands are in the air, and a stream of blood drips from his nose.
The group of fae who had been working to clear the tunnel surround him, two of them hold blades to the male’s throat.
When he spots me, he swallows over the blade and yells, “I came to help! I want to help. Please.”
I hold his gaze for a breath, considering whether to let them end him here and now or drag it out.
The strategist in me wins out. “Take him to the cells.”
Arina
