Something shifted in his expression. It was small, a softening around the eyes and a loosening of the rigid set of his mouth, but I noticed it.
“You are not dreaming.” He sighed and took a seat in front of me. “I understand this is frightening, but it is reality.”
“That’s exactly what a dream person would say.”
“It’s also what a real person would say.”
“Pip,” he said. “I need you to understand that this is real. This room is real. I am real. The danger you may be in is real.”
I picked at a splinter in the table, staring down at my hands. “But what is the explanation, then? Magic? Magic isn’t real.”
“It is, though.”
“Prove it.”
Holding eye contact, he raised a hand over the table. At first, I thought he was reaching for me, but instead, he flicked his fingers and a nail popped out of the wood and clattered to the surface, before curling into a smooth ring.
“How?”
“I’m fae. An iron elemental. My magic shapes metal.”
“But… how?”
He pressed his lips together. “You want me to explain all of magic?”
“I want something to make sense.”
“Basically? There is a well of magic in all living things, including you. Some of us just have more of it.”
“That’s… not how things work where I’m from.”
“I can’t explain the differences between our worlds; I only know how things are here.” He met my eyes, his gaze cool and assessing.
I stiffened and took a shaky breath.
“There is nothing to fear.”
“You sure about that, sport? I’m in an interrogation room talking to a guy who can bend metal with his mind.”
“We are powerful, but we are just. If you are innocent in this, we won’t hurt you. We’ll help you find a way home.”
Something in the way he said it made my smile slip. In foster care, you learn to spot fake people quickly, and nothing about this man was fake. He was genuinely concerned about my presence in his world.
I pushed the thought down. If he was right, then I was utterly alone in a world I didn’t understand, with no way home and no one looking for me.
Aeldryc’s scrutiny was so intense I felt pinned to my chair. His fingers were still pressed against the table, and something moved behind his eyes.
“You’re telling the truth.”
“Duh. I’m a terrible liar,” I said. “Ask anyone.”
I forced myself to smile like I meant it, then leaned back in my chair and stretched. His eyes moved down my body and then snapped back up so fast it was almost painful to watch.
Let him look, because his eyes on me felt fucking good.
“Stop doing that,” he said.
“Doing what?”
