I stare at my hands.
“And all the while, she was weaseling and prodding her way into my heart until she became my best friend. I couldn’t tell her the truth about my past, obviously, or about Nick and me being twins. But I mentioned I had a foster brother and complained about Mabel and her strict rules. I was so alone out there, away from home—from Nick—for the first time. I was desperate.”
E links our fingers softly.
If anyone understands exactly how much loneliness can hurt, it’s him.
“We became inseparable, so much so that we had plans to move in together for our second year, and I invited her home for the summer break.”
He rests our joined hands in his lap. “To meet your family?”
I nod. “Mabel had reluctantly agreed. Riley had become my first real friend. For the first time in my life, I felt young. Normal. My life was a series of coffee runs before lectures, studying in the park, Riley reading flash cards to me while I painted. We took long walks on the trails, gossiping about boys and sexual fantasies…”
“And you loved her.”
“I did.” I swallow hard.
“Were you two involved?”
“Not like that,” I say quickly. “But I admit, I did flirt with the possibility. Our friendship became so intense, so symbiotic, I couldn’t imagine life without her.”
My foolishness tastes rotten now.
“I loved who I was with her. University was a fresh start. I never fit in during high school, even after years living among mortals. Riley made ordinary things feel easy and magical.” I bite back a cringe. “But Nick didn’t buy it for a second.”
E chuckles quietly. “Brother bear saw right through her, did he?”
“Mypathologically distrustfulbrother,” I correct, “who had already scared off a couple of harmless boyfriends, showed up unannounced before our final exams because he wanted to, quote, unquote,meet her first.”
“And?”
I shudder, the sting of it still too raw. “Nick has a knack for noticing small things. Tiny inconsistencies. A suspicious leaning question. A look that lasts too long. He told me Riley wasn’t who she claimed to be—that she’d gotten close to me on purpose.”
“But you didn’t believe him.”
Shame flushes my neck. “Unfortunately…no. I thought he was sabotaging the first real friendship I’d ever had because he hated the mortal world and hated that I wanted a place in it.”
“That must have been very hard to hear. And excuse me for saying so, but your brother isn’t the most tactful person.”
My lips quirk. “But then Riley became awfully curious. She asked him about foster care and remarked on how serendipitous it was that we had the same eyes.” I play with the end of my braid. “Nick heard all of that and confronted her, pulling a dagger on her right then…” I wince. “And she fled straight through her bedroom mirror.”
Silence stretches between us.
“I transferred schools within weeks and doubled down on my studies. Longer hours at the library, no more painting, and less magic.”
“Why less magic?”
“Because magic used to feel private.” I drag my thumb over the bloodmark on my arm back and forth. “After Riley, every spell felt like opening a door for her, or someone just like her who might be lurking beyond the mirror.”
E brings the underside of my wrist to his lips and places a slow, reverent kiss there. “Max, you don’t have to go looking for her tomorrow—or ever. I almost lost you today, little fox. I’m not ready to live through that again.”
He’s not wrong. Any Red Fae is Riley in my book, and some secret part of me longs for revenge. Even finding my mother’s murderer—tracking Lillivere—isn’t quite as appealing.
With Riley, it’s more personal.
“I still can’t believe you flew us over here,” I say, eager to switch to a less painful subject. “Are your wings here now? I mean, did you only just realize you had them when I pointed it out, or were they—I don’t know—dormant?”
I extend a hand toward his back, but find only the smooth expanse of skin, muscle, and shoulder blades.
