My voice was cold when I replied. “One step forward in training. One question. That’s it, right? Well, I’ve heard everything I need to know. I’m just a seed to you. A stupid blank wooden block.”
And with that, I flew from the courtyard and into my room, throwing the lock shut on my door. I didn’t want to see anyone for the rest of the night.
* * *
“Iheard you made some progress last night.” Liam leaned in close, passing the tray of scones into my hands. We’d all gathered for breakfast in the hall, the war map replaced with trays upon trays of food. The “Lesser Fae”, as Phelan kept calling them, were happily chirping around our table, serving each plate with extra morsels. They’d heard news of hope, news of a plan, though they didn’t know the details of the mission.
The fae seemed eager to put these horrible attacks and storms behind them, a grim reminder of exactly how much rested on my unlikely success.
“Yeah, I made some progress,” I said bitterly, studiously avoiding Rourke’s golden eyes. He was stationed directly across the table from me, which made the whole avoiding thing terribly difficult. But he considered me a seed, one that was no different than any of the other hundreds of changelings he must have met over the years. How many girls had he lured into the forest? Had he used them as bait, too?
And why in the name of the forest should that made me feel so terrible?
Liam arched an eyebrow and barked out a laugh when I stabbed one of the scones with the end of my knife. “Dare I ask why you’re so grumpy about it?”
“It’s not important,” I muttered.
“Yes, why are you so grumpy about it, Norah?” Rourke’s cool voice drifted across the table.
I peeled my scone off my knife and dropped it onto my plate, eyes firmly locked on the blueberries that oozed from the flaky dough. “Turns out I’m weak. The shadow thing knocked me on my ass.”
“I see,” Rourke said quietly.
“Look, I know you’re not happy unless you’re conquering your gifts, Norah, but it’s just going to take a little practice.” Liam rested a warm hand on my neck. “Remember when you first shot a bow and arrow? You were pretty much the worst archer I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something.”
“I sucked at the bow and arrow because of a stupid necklace my mother gave me.”
“Sure, but—”
“So, I can’t use that as an excuse anymore.” I pointed at my neck. “I’m not wearing it. Rourke took it, remember? He probably added it to his collection of changeling necklaces.”
“His collection?” Confusion rippled across Liam’s face. “All I’m trying to say is that sometimes these things take time.”
“And sometimes, these things were never meant to be.” I pushed back my chair and stood from my table, dropping my cloth napkin onto my plate. “I’m not hungry. Come get me when it’s time for training.”
* * *
Twenty seconds after I’d shut the door behind me, a heavy knock sounded on the thick wood. With a heavy sigh, I stared at it. I didn’t know what had gotten into me. I was acting like a lunatic. The logical part of my brain was scolding me for my complete overreaction to Rourke’s words, but the emotional side was still keyed up and ready to go.
I just didn’t think I could face him. Not yet.
“Norah, it’s me.” Liam’s growl of a voice filtered in through the door.
In a moment, I’d crossed the room and let him inside. His face was a mask, a change from his usual demeanor. Liam was the kind of fae to wear his emotions all over his face. He never tried to contain them, nor put a shield over what he was feeling inside. That kind of raw passion took confidence and guts. It was something I couldn’t help but admire in him, something I wished I could be confident enough to do myself.
I mean, sometimes I was like that. Just not all the time.
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, arching an eyebrow. “You going to tell me what that was all about?”
Rourke makes me feel like I’ve lost my damn mind.
How the hell could I possibly say that?
“I’m not sure,” I muttered, plopping back onto the soft bed to stare up at the sloping ceiling. “I guess I’m feeling a bit sensitive.”
“You don’t say,” he drawled. “Any idea what it was that sparked this feeling of sensitivity?”
I pursed my lips, silent.
