But I imagined—whether from heightened elven senses or the fact we’d met in a magical hostel—they knew I wasn’t human either.
Freyja tucked a stray strand of hair into her braid. “The mortals here respect us, and we live alongside them peacefully.”
Ryder had once told me a similar story, about the different species preferring to disperse into society, to blend, if it was a viable option for them.
My fists tightened at the thought of him. Every muscle in me did.
“Here we are.” Freyja pulled into a spot in the empty, unpaved lot and cut the engine.
Aside from the fierce wind jostling the car, it was quiet.
The elves stared at me with tilted chins and knowing gazes.
“Well…” Head swiveling, I took in the blustery, desolate cliffside, noting the lack of buildings—and people. I tugged on my collar, the space getting tighter, hotter. “This is a bust.”
“Perhaps we should head back,” Freyja suggested flatly.
I twisted in my seat. The lighthouse was right there, identical to my vision—down to the salt-stained ivory sides and the red circular tower. I had to at least try to open it. Who knew when I’d have the chance to come back? Sure, I could book a tour, but…
“I need some fresh air.” My heart thudded so savagely against my ribs that I was positive they could hear it. “Do you mind if I step out for a sec?”
I didn’t wait for a reply.
Fingers grasping the handle, I flung the door open and practically jumped out before a forceful gust slammed it shut. No clue what they said, if they even answered. But I felt their watchful eyes piercing me in the back like daggers my entire walk up the loose gravel path.
A slitted square column of smooth, pale stone stood in front of me. No door, which meant it must be on the other side. The ocean side.
The moment I disappeared from the elves’ view behind a corner, I felt my jaw release, tension melting from my body.
Safe from prying eyes, I hurried to the entrance. I reached for the handle, pressing as hard as I could.
It didn’t budge.
I doubled down. Now, with both hands, I tried to force it open, frantically shaking the handle, ramming my hip and shoulders into the wood. Mau knew it’d be locked. Deep down inside, I knew it too, but I still tried with all my might. “C’mon, you stupid thing…”
“It won’t open.”
All the air left my lungs in a gasp. “I”—hand shooting to my chest, I stepped away from the door—“I didn’t realize you were there.”
Arms crossed, Freyja and Gunnar stood on the terrace, where the concrete path met the grass. Unmoving, unblinking, like two majestic, elven statues. They were a decent amount of space away if I needed to slip past them and run. But considering how fast and silent they had proven themselves to be, eh, maybe running wasn’t the right call.
I pulled at my frayed cuticles. “Ready to head back?”
A low howl whipped across the cliffs, rustling my damp hair.
Freyja took the first step closer. “That aunt of yours, what’s her name?”
“Um.” Heat gathered in my cheeks. “Gaia?”
“That’s an old name.” She crept closer. “One that has roots. History. You know what it reminds me of, G?”
Gunnar bit back a coy smile.
“A very important Empyrean figure.” Chest inches from mine, she halted, her tall frame drenching me in shadow. “What kind of soul-searching are you doing here, exactly?”
“I—” I choked on the words, my throat closing off.
The jig was up. They knew. Of course they fucking knew.
