Chapter 23
Ellie
Ishould’ve let Taran follow through on his threat of forcing me to sleep.
Everything is awful. Even though Professor Beckwith’s intensive training over the last few months transformed my body from skin and bones into lean muscle, the stupid horse still turned my legs into useless appendages of pain. They hurt even worse than they did last night.
And my back… my shoulders… my neck… It’s surprising I slept at all. I spent most of the night twisting and turning on the cold, hard ground, relieving the pressure in one spot only for my new position to send spikes of agony shooting through me moments later. But I must have succumbed at some point, since I don’t remember the sun rising.
With a groan, I pull my blanket over my head to block the sunlight hitting my face. It smells of smoke, but also musky pine, washing away a lingering clove scent—the remnant of a dream.
Hold on. I didn’t have a blanket.I pull the fabric off my face and examine it. It’s Taran’s coat—the one I burned last night.
“You were shivering.” Taran sits hunched over in the same spot across the fire, poking it with a long stick. A pile of several shorter ones sits next to him. “It didn’t take long for your fire to go out. I had to collect firewood after all.”
I push into a seated position. “Did you sleep?”
“No.”
That could be good. If he’s overtired, it might make it easier for me to escape… if that’s what I decide.
I still have no idea what to do, having fought with myself over Taran’s words all night as pain wreaked havoc on my limbs. My tactics lessons on dealing with fae warned me against their tricks, but I struggled to find any holes in what he said.
Pushing his smelly coat off me, I scoot closer to the fire as the morning air’s still quite crisp despite the sunny blue sky. The pale-green grass and nearby trees remind me of the gardens visible from my bedroom window back home, and it hits me how nice it is to wake up to color for the first time in months.
Now that it’s daytime, I have a better view of my captor. The fae clearly don’t care about modesty; he wears a tunic of undyed wool that ties loosely in the front but lacks a collar. My gaze lingers on the lump of his throat as heat pools in my cheeks, but it’s an effort to look away, his gravity tugging uncomfortably against it.
This must be what they meant by fae being alluring.I need to be mindful of that and not let his looks lull me into a false sense of security. To ignore those striking eyes, swirling with an ethereal green light.
That’s easier said than done—somehow, imagining them as gray and lightless only makes the pull twist tighter. So I wrest my gaze away from his face, following the stylized, leafy vines embroidered down the sides of his tunic to his tight leather riding pants.
I quickly turn back to the fire, swallowing the blaze rising within me. “Are we just sitting here today, or are you going to force me back onto that horse?”
Taran’s eyes flick in my direction. “I’m waiting for my friend. He should have joined us last night.”
“Your friend is Emmrich?” My stomach sinks.What does that mean for Reid?
“Emlyn. He told mortals to call him Emmrich.”
My brows knit together as I scoot closer to the fire, warming my hands. “But he’s been in Haven for months.” That’s when I first heard about Alexis and Reid vying for his attention.
Oh no.My stomach rises back up, threatening to spew its contents onto the ground. Alexis hates the fae for killing her parents. If she had known…
Taran continues, oblivious to the nausea overtaking me. “He’s been spying on the queen for me.”
“And that involves having dishonorable relations with my friends?” I snap.
That gets Taran’s attention, his emerald eyes piercing into me as much as the bite in his voice. “I don’t always approve of his methods, but he does his job well.”
“And that’s all that matters?”
He shifts his weight, leaning forward. “This is what you’re arguing with me about? I didn’t tell him to bed your friends. I told him to watch the queen. He couldn’t get close to her without being recognized as fae, so he got as deep into her circle as he could risk.”
I scoff. “Myfriendsare in your exiled queen’s inner circle?”
“Yes,” Taran exhales. “Reid has known her for over a decade.”
What?I bolt upright as curiosity outpaces my skepticism. “He has? Who is she?”
