I swear I could punch her, but Caeo would beat me to death. Or would he, if it keeps her out of his brother’s pants?
Taran falls silent as he tightens a strap on the horse.
“This is a tough one,” Emlyn whispers again. “He can’t claim there’s nothing to discuss because he knows there is, but if he asks another question, she’ll spell it out for him.”
Taran shoots a glare our way.
“I figured that out on my own,” I mutter, peeking inside a leather sack to find a variety of nuts. “You don’t need to explain.”
“Just trying to acclimate you to our ways,” he says. “We’ll be crossing the border today. I’d hate for my kin to scare you off.”
“Today?” I glance back at Emlyn, who nods. “Will we be meeting other fae?”
He clicks his tongue, his gaze drifting to the tree line. “I’m not entirely sure of the plan. I thought Taran would go over it last night, but…” He shrugs. “We’ll have to get the two of you some different clothes. Preferably something with a hood, because I can’t guarantee people won’t see through any glamours we put on you. After that… I’m not sure. We’re traveling with two Fallen and a prince with enemies in both the northern and southern realms. This was the easy part.”
My stomach tightens. “How dangerous will this be?” When I decided to chase after Ellie, I was a capable incanter. Now, I just have a sword I’ve never actually used in a fight.
I’m not ready to die for Caeo’s sake. Stopping a war is a slightly better cause, but as I meet Emlyn’s eyes, I know that’s not the reason I’m still here, either.
He squeezes my arm. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
Heat floods my chest; how does ‘truth’ work in this scenario? Did he just bind himself to that?
But now he’s gone, joining Taran at the horses before I even build the courage to ask. Ellie’s no longer with them, but back by the fire, staring at her hands as she fiddles with something small between her fingers.
I guess I missed how their conversation ended.
At least Emlyn isn’t being a pain in the ass this morning—yet. It’s baffling how he can go from being the most irritating person alive to tender as slow-cooked chicken in the blink of an eye. As if all the moments he’s needling me are just his weird way of being respectful. Like he’s keeping himself entertained until I’m ready to pick up where we left off, before he slept with Alexis.
Because that’s inevitable, right? Who cares that he’s fae?
I should, shouldn’t I?
Despite everything, it’s getting harder and harder to remind myself he’s fae when I look at him. Alexis’s warning, as well-intended as it was, just feels ignorant now. He’s not the manipulative villain we’ve been warned about our entire lives, and I truly believe he never intended to hurt her. Or me.
With my entire world flipped upside down, he’s been the single constant. And yet… despite how my heart sprints around him, despite longing for his touch, I don’t think my brain can handle any more changes right now. Not with everything else going to shit. I need to focus on what’s important—saving Caeo—since Ellie can’t.
I bring our packs to the horses, keeping some dried fruit and nuts in hand while Emlyn attaches them to the saddles. When he finishes, he takes the food he wants from me, then playfully shoves what remains into my mouth.
“Time to go,” Taran calls to Ellie.
She trudges over, the fire finally out, meeting him at his horse. I turn away, letting Emlyn help me onto mine. Taran does a good job feigningindifference while assisting Ellie, but ruins it by smiling when she thanks him.
You can’t destroy yourself to save them.
I force an exhale, then kick my horse into motion behind Ellie’s. “E’torel sinta nan.”
* * *
We arrive at the border in the early afternoon. This being my first time out of Haven, I’ve obviously never seen it before. But I’ve heard tales of it—an impenetrable fog that human eyes can’t pierce, filling the air from the ground to the highest reaches of the sky.
After leaving the patch of forest that obscured it from our view, I pull my horse to a stop next to Ellie’s. Both our jaws hang open as we lose a staring contest against a cloud.
Stories said it felt angry. That’s an understatement; it feels like it wants to pulverize me for even daring to gaze upon it.
Emlyn pulls up beside me. “That bad, huh?”
My voice sticks in my throat. “Is it always so… murderous?”
