“We need to ride,” Drystan continues, watching me eat with something unreadable floating in his ember-bright eyes. “We’re supposed to be across the Renfraw right now. Which means there’s no time to take care of your needs before we leave.”
Needs? It takes me an embarrassingly long time to get what he means, and when I do, I choke on my stew.
“It doesn’t matter,” I wheeze. “I’ll be fine.”
Drystan takes a deep breath, like he’s praying for patience. “That wasn’t what I was saying.”
“The dullahan is trying to ask if you want him to pet that pretty pussy as we ride!” Lore pipes up, leading Wraith past us to where his saddle is waiting.
“Dullahan?” I echo, confused.
“Don’t utter that word again, assassin,” Drystan snarls, aggression straightening his spine.
Lore, of course, pays him no mind, whistling happily as he hefts the saddle over Wraith’s back.
I’m still trying to get over the mental image of Drystan wanting to dothat, so it takes me a minute to figure out what he’s referring to. I use the stew as an excuse, slurping the last gulps down as I think back over Lore’s words, before handing the bowl back to Bree with a thankful smile.
“Why?” I ask. “Is it a bad word?”
Bree takes a step forward, almost like he wants to put himself between me and Drystan, then flinches as we draw the attention of the enraged lord.
“Dullahan is a species of high fae—a distant relative of shifters.” Jaro shoves his shirt into his leather trousers as he approaches, looking disgruntled but not entirely surprised by Lore’s pronouncement. Did he suspect Drystan was one of these dullahan? “Anextinctspecies.”
“There are extinct species of fae?” I had no idea. “How many? Why are they extinct?”
Drystan pinches his brow, visibly praying for patience as he turns around, giving me his back and heading for Blizzard—already tacked up and waiting. “Dullahansareextinct, and they will stay that way.” A tense pause. “But yes, I was offering my services,ifyou want them. I’m aware you are still… angry with my decision to take you from the palace. I will understand if you’d prefer to ride with Jaro again.”
I am angry, but I’d have to be stupid not to see this for what it is. This is Drystan’s olive branch.
At Samhain, he admitted he was the last of his kind. Whatever a dullahan is, my gut is telling me that Drystan is one, and for whatever reason, he doesn’t want anyone to know.
“You can trust us,” I murmur, putting my hand out to touch his back.
He scoffs, and I can see his walls going up. “What’s your answer, Rhoswyn?”
“No one here will betray your secrets,” I push.
Drystan doesn’t take my word for it. “Your decision, Nicnevin?”
Oh. We’ve graduated from my full name to my title now? I’m not sure we’ve reached this level of Winter Court surliness before.
“Yes.” I shock myself when the word blurts free of my mouth, so I don’t blame Jaro for fumbling his saddle or Bree for dropping the bowl. Then—before I can think better of it—I add, “I want you to stroke my pussy as we ride.”
Oh, Goddess. Why did I say that? Did it sound as awkward as it felt? If Drystan turns around, he’ll see me scarlet with embarrassment, but fortunately, he does no such thing.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Have I broken him?
Lore pops up beside me, stealing my breath as his lips descend on mine. “I’m so proud of you!” he croons as he pulls away. “See! I told you it was important to ask for exactly what you want.” A half breath of a pause. “Can you say it again? It sounds dirtier when you say it.”
Why would I do that when I don’t even know why I said it the first time!?
“You’re treading a dangerous line today,” Jaro warns the redcap. “And it’s not even noon.”
“His erratic nature is nothing new.” Bree stokes his hands over his tattoos, summoning forth his cat-sìth. “Cut him some slack. All of us are on edge right now. Just be grateful he’s not doing what redcaps normally do when they’re horny.”
“What do—” I stop talking as Drystan’s hands come down on my waist, cutting off my obvious follow-up question.
The tips of his ears are on fire again, I notice dimly as he pulls me close. For a second, I get the foolish notion that he wants to kiss me. My breath catches, heart kicking wildly for a second as I wonder what kissing him will be like. I shouldn’t want to know, should I? I’m still mad…
