Kieran’s expression is perfectly neutral in the specific way that means he’s working very hard not to agree with a god out loud.
“Don’t encourage him.”
“I said nothing.”
“You said something.”
“I expressed mild philosophical alignment with a culinary position.” The faintest pull at the corner of his mouth. “That’s not encouragement.”
Dagda points at Kieran. “I like this one.”
Kieran looks like he genuinely cannot decide if that’s an honor or a threat.
Orion, still on the ground, tips his face up toward the purple sky. “He grows on you,” he says, to no one in particular. “Like a very cold fungus.”
“I’m standing right here.”
“I know.”
Dagda stares at them both for one long moment. Then something shifts in his expression. For the slightest of moments it almost feels like a father approving of his daughter’s suitors.
I just don’t know if he finds them lacking or not.
“Fucking dragons,” Dagda mutters.
The laugh that slips out of me is small and raw and unexpected.
Because somewhere out there, past the sentries and the Dark Forest and whatever else Faerie throws at them tonight, three women are walking toward me. Not for duty. Not because fate or prophecy or political necessity requires it.
Because I’m theirs and they are mine and Vanessa is definitely complaining about the cardio.
Dagda watches me carefully. He’s never met them. He’s prepping a dragon pot on faith because I asked, because that’s apparently what father gods do: they cook for people they haven’t met because their daughter said please.
Daughter. A crack opens in the quiet place where Graves used to live.
I always wanted a father. Someone who stuck around. Who didn’t run or die or manipulate. Dagda is the all father. Except when he looks at me it feels more paternal.
I crave it.
But I also need a shower more and a few days to process my life.
44
Ash
I smelllike death and dirt and something that used to be a man I called father.
“I need a bath.” I say it to no one specific. Just anyone willing to listen. “Or I’m going to add to the body count and this time it won’t be personal.”
Nobody argues. Nobody asks if I’m okay. I’m clearly not okay. Halfway to numb and pushing my emotions into a bottomless pit.
“All right, come on,” Orion just starts walking. He doesn’t even look back to make sure we are all there. We are.
Kieran falls in behind us without a word. Shadows fanning out in a perimeter I didn’t ask for but won’t refuse.
Finnian walks beside me. Close enough that heat radiates off him, which is wrong. Finnian doesn’t run hot. He’s burning up. And he’s covered in blood that isn’t his.
I have so many question. Where was he? How did he end up with Tiana? What happened with her? And not in the did you fuck her way.
