Actually, no. I probably don’t.
Reluctantly, I take one from the pouch. “An offering of sustenance? Should I be suspicious?”
“Fear not, Nia Quill. I will not propose to you.”
His choice of words turns my heart to stone. Not because I expected him to propose. That’s ridiculous. I just didn’t expect him to be so dismissive of the idea, especially after Kerris shared her suspicions. Perhaps my cousin misunderstood his interest.
Or maybe my own terrible actions have turned him off me altogether. Who could blame him? I wouldn’t want to tie myself to a bitter, cross fae, so why would he?
Perhaps he was only interested in me at the beginning, before he got to know me. Heaven knows he wouldn’t be the first. Maybe that’s why he lied, to keep from embarrassing me with the truth.
I rip off a bit of the stick with my teeth. There’s a peppery note, and the bite takes so long to chew that my jaw aches, but it’s not the worst fare I’ve had.
I tear off another piece, chewing slowly.
Maddox tucks the pouch back into his pocket without taking one for himself.
“Aren’t you having any?”
“I am not hungry.” He adds a few more twigs to the fire, then withdraws something else from his pocket. How many items does this man carry?
Wordlessly, he unscrews the lid on a silver flask and stretches it toward me like an offering.
“Thank you.” The first sip quenches the fire in my mouth. The second makes my ankle feel good as new.
The water must’ve come from the Seelie side of The Divide, where our taps and wells overflow with immortal, healing water. As thirsty as I am, to drink it all would only lead to folly. There’s no telling how long we’ll be here or what sort of injuries we’re bound to sustain on our journey home.
Assuming we can even make it home.
My hand trembles as I hand back the flask. Maddox doesn’t drink any; he simply tucks it into his pocket and goes back to tending the fire.
“You should drink something.”
“I am not yours to worry about.”
Hearing my own words thrown back at me hurts worse than the fall. How could I have said such dreadful things to such a sweet man? Reaching for his hand, I wait until his gaze meets mine. When it does, his eyes remain guarded. “I’m so sorry, Maddox. I was having a terrible day and took it all out on you.”
Pulling his hand out of my grasp, he shifts a little further away. “I am the one who lied to you. You were only speaking your truth.”
That’s the thing. None of what I said was true.
I’m just as much of a liar as he is.
My eyes start to sting. What I wouldn’t give for a good, long cry.
Over being stuck at the bottom of a canyon. Over the fact that Maddox refuses to look at me. Over ruining everything that could’ve been with my bloody temper.
The weight of it all feels like being crushed by boulders. I want to close my eyes, go to sleep, and wake up back in my bed last week, when Gia Gill was real and Maddox looked genuinely happy to be near me.
Sparks dance into the darkness, twisting with the smoke toward the nothing stretching above us.
Maddox adds another branch, this one a little larger. “You should rest.”
Maybe he’s right. Maybe things will look brighter in the morning.
I try to make myself comfortable, but with all the debris left by our fall, it’s nearly impossible. There are too many damn sticks and stones, and what if there are spiders or snakes or other creepy crawlies slithering under me? I think I’d rather be swallowed whole by a wolf.
Maddox’s deep voice rumbles over me. “Come here.”
