Page 86 of Ravenrose

Everything about Ayer is hard, sharp—unforgiving. But tonight… his touch is gentle, his movements careful, as though I’m something fragile he’s afraid might break. This is the same man who held a knife to my throat and promised me death, but despite everything… it's almost as if he doesn’t want to hurt me. It’s jarring, seeing this soft side of him, and I don’t quite know what to make of it.

I drain the rest of the water and Ayer pulls it away, gently laying my head back down to rest atop the furs.

“Shall I have my men fetch some milk and honey?” I don’t miss the slight trace of amusement in his voice, though his face remains serious, without even the hint of a smile.

I sigh audibly. “And cinnamon.” I add in a dramatic roll of my eyes. “And no. I’ll be fine without it.” I hope. Fae aren’t supposed to catch red fever, so who’s to say how long it might last?

I wait for him to move away, but he doesn’t, his gaze fixed on me.

“That baby surviving,” he shakes his head slowly, his eyes boring into mine, “was nothing short of a miracle.”

“Perhaps it was the hope her mother was able to cling to in that dark moment that helped her baby pull through.” I throw his venomous words back at him. How he accused me of giving Nadia false hope, before viciously punishing me for it.

“No amount of hope could have brought that baby back from the brink of death.”

The air between us grows thicker, and I feel my heartbeat quicken. If Ayer figures it out, I don’t know what will happen, but it most certainly won’t be good.

“There’s nothing worse than feeling powerless when everything you love is on the line. Even the tiniest drop of hope can push back the darkness. A little bit of hope can be the difference between fighting and folding.”

“For the tonic to work…” Ayer’s tone is skeptical, and the look in his eyes tells me he knows I did something. He just can’t figure out what.

“It was a fifty-fifty chance,” I mumble, averting my eyes and throwing in a ration of truth. “Sometimes it will work—sometimes it doesn’t.” I’m talking about the tonic, but really I’m thinking about my powers.

He leans in further, as if hoping his proximity might shake me up. “You seemed pretty sure.”

“I was hopeful, yes,” I hedge, my heartbeat quickening the closer he gets.

His eyes narrow, likely remembering how adamantly I assured Nadia her baby would be okay. He studies my eyes—weighing the sincerity in them. He works his jaw but looks away, nodding absently while looking out at nothing.

It takes effort to keep from collapsing with relief at no longer being the subject of his hardened gaze, but in its absence, the exhaustion quickly creeps back in.

“Any more questions, Captain?” I lift my chin, daring him to voice the suspicions I read in his eyes.

His gaze slowly trails back to me before the corner of his mouth ticks up.

“Just one.”

Stars.

My eyes track the movement of his hand as he reaches down to where he sheathes his knives.

“I was just curious how long until you tried using this?”

I can’t help the choking sound that escapes me at the sight of the blade in his hand. The intricately carved rose on the handle.

My blade.

“No, no, no, no, no—” Frantically, my hand shoots to my thigh, tearing at my skirts for the blade despite already knowing it’s gone.

“That’s mine.”

Chapter 40

ROWAN

“Not anymore.”

Twelve moons, I wanted to strangle him—still do. I mentally mark the section of his throat I’d wrap my hands around while I watch Ayer pack his saddlebags across camp.