Page 117 of Ravenrose

His exhale is quiet, but I hear it. “Theo wants you alive.”

Our eyes meet.

“To what end?” I ask.

He shakes his head once. “I don’t know.”

I believe him. It had been Theo’s order that kept me alive. And Ayer’s made it clear from the start, he would’ve preferred me dead.

“You two seem close.”

He dips his chin slightly.

“Closer than most…” I press harder.

He studies me right back. “You’re observant.”

“You learn a lot when you’re quiet.” I flash him my best court smile.

The corner of his lip ticks up in response to mine. “Clever, too.”

I open my mouth to respond but snap it shut when every muscle in Ayer’s body tenses, a frown replacing that small smile. He whisks a finger over his lips while slowly reaching for the bow that’s resting a few feet away.

My hand flies to my dagger, my heart pounding as my mind conjures up imaginings of monsters that I pray to the gods are far worse than whatever’s actually lurking in those woods.

Ayer draws an arrow from his quiver, nocking it onto his bow, and waits.

Sweat coats the palms of my hands as I scan the tree line, searching for any sign of movement.

Ayer’s listening intently. To what? I don’t know; I hear nothing. He’s so still, his eyes trained down at the dirt, listening… waiting.

I nearly jump out of my skin when he moves. In one fluid motion, he spins, releasing the string of his bow. The arrow flies—and a rabbit drops from the brush with a soft thud.

And just like that, the brief truce formed between us breaks with the sharp reminder of what he is: dangerous, lethal, and the man holding me captive.

Silence falls, once again hanging between us like a knife. Ayer’s busying himself preparing his new quarry for the spit, and I turn so that my back is to him, looking instead at the night sky above. Clouds cover most of it, only the light from a few stubborn stars breaking through.

“Eat.”

I flinch at the sudden closeness of his voice, having not heard him approach. Startled, I look up and realize he’s offering me some of the meat he cooked over the fire. I accept it without a word.

I take a cautious bite. It’s not—it’s not terrible. Perhaps an acquired taste. I eat quietly, but after a while, I find my eyes drifting back to him, despite myself.

“Have you always hated the fae?” I ask. The question spills out before I can stop it.

He doesn’t hesitate with his answer. “Yes.”

“Oh,” is all I say, looking away.

He sighs. “Many villages, especially those on the border, face the same threat. Year after year, the fae raid. They come, they steal, they kill. People disappear in the night.” He shakes his head as if to clear away dark memories playing behind his eyes. “You won’t find many humans who feel anything but hatred for the fae.”

I frown. “Then why continue with these senseless border battles? If you would only stop attacking⁠—”

“Attacking?” Ayer’s words are sharp, and there’s a new, dangerous gleam in his eyes. “Are we attacking when the fae come on our lands, take our food, our crops, our people?” My chest tightens. “Are we attacking when they come in the night and burn an entire village to the ground, just because they can?”

“That’s not true,” I say quickly, shaking my head vehemently.

“It is true,” he growls. “I’ve seen it. With my own eyes.”