But I would only cut her with my claw.
Well, it looks like I’m staying with her for the night. May as well get comfortable.
8
Ivy
Isneakdownthetunnel the next morning, head pounding like a drum. Hopefully, Tegwyn left to hunt; I don’t think I can face him today, not after what happened last night.
To my relief, he’s nowhere in sight when I step into the kitchen, just like he was nowhere to be found when I woke, my bedside empty and devoid of his presence. I can’t believe I begged him to stay.
I just couldn’t bear to be alone. Not after the nightmares...
The dream had felt so real—I was absolutely convinced that the soldiers had found me.
I must have looked completely hysterical. Worst of all, I exposed a vulnerable side of myself.
I’m not sure if I can wholly trust that Fae. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a trick waiting up his sleeve for me. Any way to exploit me.
I’m greeted with a wall of darkness when I enter the cave. Holding my lamp out before me, I shuffle into the cold chamber, letting the soft light wash away the shadows.
It looks as if a certainsomeoneleft the kitchen in complete disarray, pots and pans scattered across the floor. Something cracks beneath my boot.
What on earth did that mischievous faerie get up to last night?
Something shifts in the corner of my eye, and I jump, dropping the lamp. It clatters to the ground, yet I can’t tear my gaze away from the haunted figure sitting at the table.
Has he been in the kitchen this whole time? Or has he just arrived? I can never tell with him.
I’ve seen him in action—he’s fast. One place one moment, and another the next.
The lamp continues to roll, making the shadows dance across the cave. Tegwyn doesn’t move an inch. He merely stares with that vacant expression, eyes glowing like firelight.
Something isn’t right. Still, despite my trepidation, I brave a step. “Tegwyn?”
No reply. He doesn’t seem to hear me or even acknowledge my presence.
My hair spikes along my arms, yet I try his name for a second time, “Tegwyn? Are you all right?”
Slowly but surely, the faerie comes back to life, blinking his eyes. Then with a deep inhale, he peers off, voice hoarse, “I’m fine.”
I wince. His throat sounds sore. Maybe I should offer him a drink of water.
Bending forward, I pick up the lamp and place it down on the table. “Have you been sitting alone in the dark all night?”
He looks right through me when he whispers, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
I open my mouth to speak, but no words escape. Truth be told, I’m at a loss. He really is a strange creature.
Though strange he may be, he seems…lost.As if he can’t quite remember where he left his shoes.
Grabbing the pot, I collect some water from a barrel, wondering what flavour of tea he likes as I place it over the hearth. In the end, Igrab some lavender, sprinkling it into the water. From the corner of my eye, I watch him as he studies me carefully. So far, he hasn’t mentioned the nightmare, and I hope it stays that way.
But then I freeze like a rabbit when he utters, “So… I’ve been wondering…”
A lump sticks in my throat.
He leans forward on his chair, yellow eyes burning in the lamplight. “What happened to you before you arrived here?”
