Good.Saying that will only make her angrier, so I swallow the retort down and change the subject. “Do you know what you have to do in the temple?”
She huffs, giving me a dark look that tells me she’s well aware of what I’m doing, before nodding. “Enter the sanctuary, bless the shrine, and let Danu do her thing.”
“And stay away from other fae,” Lore pipes up helpfully, appearing at the top of the stairs just before we reach them. “Otherwise, they might fall off a cliff and die.”
Rose stares. “What?”
But Lore is already gone, blinking away with nothing but the echo of his manic cackling laugh to prove he was there in the first place.
“Your scent, Rose,” I murmur. “It’s getting… hard to think around you.” That’s not the only thing getting hard, but I force my mind out of the gutter. “Until your fever passes, all of us will be a little… on edge.”
On edge. On fire for her. Wanting to rip the throat out of any male who comes within five feet of her. Same thing, right?
Rose cocks her head to one side, lips thinning, in the way I’ve noticed she does do when she’s listening to her guides.
I have no idea which Nicnevins are accompanying us, and I’m not sure I want to know. Whatever they’re telling her is making her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink.
Instead of answering, she ducks her head and speeds up, almost dragging me down the stairs in her haste to escape.
“Juststop, Maeve,” she hisses over her shoulder.
“Did you know that Nicnevin Maeve was known for taking audiences while her Guard ate her out?” Lore asks, popping back to her side again. “Queen Aiyana does the same. I think we should give it a try. Definitely a power move.”
“Lorcan!” Rose looks absolutely scandalised.
“That’s not a no!” His sharp teeth glint as he smiles widely. “Want to start now? I’m game to spice up this temple blessing if you are!”
Rose shakes her head, but she doesn’t get a chance to voice her objection, because Drystan is there, grabbing the redcap by his collar and wrenching him away.
“We’re late,” he snaps, not even glancing at Rose. “Stop gossiping and hurry up.”
A growl rises in the back of my throat. “Give her a minute. We’ve all had a long night.”
The grumpy unseelie isn’t listening. He’s too busy attempting to frog march Lore down the stairs, a task that would be easier if the redcap didn’t keep blinking all around him, poking him, and yelling, “Boop! You’re dead.”
“Enough,” Rose mutters, pulling free of my grasp and brushing past them. “I’m coming.”
Lore stops his tormenting just long enough to wrap Drystan in a huge—and definitely unrequited—hug, before jumping after her. “Wait for me! I want to come too!”
With the two of them gone, it’s just us on the stairwell. The Lord of the Wild Hunt sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“How long does it take you to get her off?” Drystan grumbles under his breath. “I stalled, but the priests were getting antsy.”
I shake my head, but don’t correct him. Iwishthat’s what we were doing. Better to let him think that I spent the last half hour making Rose fall apart in my arms, than admit I spent the time standing in front of her door like an imbecile. If he were smart—and not currently distracted by the scent of her fever—he’d have realised I’m not wearing a single sparkle of her dust.
“Is everything ready?” I ask.
“Horses are,” he confirms. “After Kitarni explained the…situation, the temple has kindly added charms to the tack so that they’ll travel faster.”
The ‘situation’ being that we have seven days to get Rose to Pavellen, rather than the eight we had planned.
“Bree was overseeing the last of the packing while Kitarni soothes the head priest,” Drystan continues. “Lore wassupposedto be ensuring Wraith was well-behaved around the crowd, but evidently that task has bored him.”
“And Prince Bram?”
“Coming!” Rose’s youngest brother trips down the stairs towards us, carrying a bunch of books under one arm. “I know, I know, I’m late. But the temple library was…” He trails off when he takes in our expressions, and his knuckles turn white on the tome in his hands. “Sorry. It’s been a long time since I had the pleasure of a good novel.”
“You’re no later than Rose,” I offer. “Have you eaten?”
