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“Yes,” he clipped. “Shall we go?”
At his dismissive tone, Nova’s good mood evaporated. She shoved him aside. “Let’s get this over with.”
Leaf closed his eyes and sighed. When would he stop saying the wrong things? His self-disparaging scowl remained when they walked across the frosty grass path toward the sacred tree. Owl shifters preferred to fly up to the sky walkway to enter the tree, so the path lit by bonfires was relatively empty.
That didn’t mean they were immune from Nova turning heads. Winged fae craned their necks as they flew. A group of males a few yards away hesitated as they were about to take flight and decided to walk instead.
Nova took his hand in hers. “We should be a bit more obvious.”
“Good idea,” he mumbled. He glanced at her just as her cape billowed open, giving him a glimpse of her cleavage, and he stumbled.
Nova’s hand slid up to his elbow. “Are you okay?”
They stopped in the middle of the path. Heat crept up his neck. What the fuck was he thinking buying her that dress? He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Naturally, every male in this place would be doing the same. He should have worn his baldric andReckoningover his dress shirt. Fuck the wake and propriety. Fuck that market stall attendant who said this dress was the perfect gift. At least if they were still, the cape fell and appropriately covered her. Maybe he’d ask her to keep it on while inside the tree. Surely, it was cold up there. Tugging his collar, he cleared his throat and searched for words. But every time his eyes landed on her, he forgot everything.
“Leaf?” she pressed, her frown deepening.
He didn’t deserve her concern, especially not after what he knew.
“I need to tell you something,” he confessed.
“Okay.” Her concern morphed into anger when she glanced over his shoulder and shouted,“¿Qué estás mirando?”
She continued to lecture someone in Spanish. Leaf slid his gaze to her target and found a group of male shifters scurrying away. It wasn’t until he heard Nova sayGuardianesthat he realized she spoke about him.
“What’s happened?” he asked, tensing and narrowing his eyes at their spectators.
“They’re looking at you,” she huffed. “They see your Guardian mark, and theylook. I’m not blind—that’s right,puta, I see you staring!”She explained quietly to him, “First, it was the snide comments the soldiers sent your way at the war camp, then here before we entered the gates, and now this. I know I’ve not seen a fraction of what Guardians do for the fae people, but you don’t deserve to be stared at.”
Warmth bloomed in his chest.
“Nova,” he murmured, putting a finger to her chin and guiding her fiery gaze back to his. “They’re not looking at me.”
“Of course they are. What else would they be staring at?”
“They don’t get outsiders. You’re the most beautiful thing they’ve seen in decades.”
Before she could deny it, he gripped her hand, ignored the riot in his blood traveling south again, and tugged her toward the hollow at the base of the sacred tree. The spiral staircase inside was blessedly empty—no gawping shifters.
“What is this magic?” Nova gushed as he pulled her up the spiral staircase. The tree’s inner veins pulsed as though alive and flush with pale, glowing blood.
“Mana,” he explained. “But don’t touch it. Who knows what transient effect the taint has.”
At the first-level landing, they walked through a curtain of foliage into a hallway enshrouded by branches and bioluminescent leaves. Leaf’s eyes crinkled as Nova’s steps kept slowing while she tried to study the beautiful sights. Tiny glowing sprites flittered and buzzed through the darker recesses and hidden hollows.
“If you want, we can explore the tree after we speak with the Prime,” he offered.
“Really?” Her face lit up as she turned to him.
Butterflies swarmed in his stomach. He shouldn’t promise things like this, but the joy on her face was so much better than the thought of her impending sadness at the news.
Clearing his throat, he said, “I think it’s this way.”
He tugged her along another enshrouded hallway. They walked up another staircase.
“This tree is a maze,” she mumbled, ducking beneath a low-hanging vine.
“Hmm,” he agreed. “It’s much easier for the shifters to fly to the level they need.”
