Page 25 of Why Broken Wings Fray

“No.” She shook her head several times, sending some of that hair scattering down the satin-like clothes of Cluaineach. “It’s not okay. And I swear if I ever see him again, it’ll be at the end of my sword.”

Shea, seated to her side, roared out in agreement at that, raising her goblet for Aisling to clank against.

I said nothing, only glanced between the two of them and wondered how it had been possible for them to become friends.

Shea misunderstood my silence, though, and somehow made a bad day worse by blurting out, “Oh, don’t tell me you’re still a sympathizer of the Rachainn?”

I nearly choked on absolutely nothing as I whirled my focus to her. “Absolutely not.”

It was a very good thing that my oath-bound friend, Raegan, had not been the one to ask me. Actually, he was being absurdly quiet where he sat on my other side at the head of the table, his eyes watching us all from behind the rim of his own goblet.

“Good,” Shea grunted, slamming her goblet down and immediately retrieving the pitcher. “I’ll show not a single one of them mercy. Blood of my blood or not.”

Killian stiffened at my side, giving me something to focus on as my stomach started to grumble.

He looked as he always did; slightly unkempt and out-of-place in the regality of a court. But he also made me feel as he always did; quiet and warm.

I leant against him ever so slightly, letting our shoulders brush as I moved my lips for his ear.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“No,” he muttered back, his hand reaching for his own drink. “It is I that is sorry. I should not have surprised you.”

I smiled, partly because of his genuine words but also because I could feel the pumping of the vein in his neck only inches from my mouth, and the vague scent of the woodlands that forever lived in his pores.

The table groaned out as someone kicked one of the legs. My initial assumption was that it was an accident, until I turned to see Raegan’s eyes unblinking on the two of us.

The food was brought out only moments later. Roasted chicken seasoned with spices of both the earth and the town shops in Marazion, complete with steamed vegetables that varied from Brussel sprouts to potatoes, carrots to peas. Everything was steaming, sending wisps of scent into the air where it collected and clouded above us. I was glad I didn’t have a pixie sense of smell, because I was sure I would be drooling if that was the case. I was pretty sure someone farther down the table was, actually.

Everyone dug in without a word being shared between them. Only the fluidity of their functional friendship, bowls and drinks passed with ease without the question being asked, the understanding of which one of them liked which spices and who was missing certain ingredients. At the end of it all, though, I couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong.

It wasn’t that they were missing Niamh – even though that was glaringly obvious. No, this was something else. A tension that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, not until Raegan suddenly cleared his throat and set his cup down and every pair of eyes at that table whirled to him.

“I have plans,” he declared, his eyes narrowing and taking to that pointed-state that I couldn’t decide whether I loved or hated. A bit of both – the danger and the allure.

“How kind of you to actually inform us this time,” Shea snarled, wrath riding through her eyes until she suddenly slammed her mouth shut and stared down at the table.

Raegan didn’t look insulted or infuriated by her outburst, though. Instead, he simply took to a practiced smirk that I knew I hated.

“She did not mean it, Rae–”

Shea shot Killian a decimating look. “I absolutely meant it.” Then that glare slid across the room until it was on Raegan. “There was a time where I could have spoken this freely to you, Raegan. Yet you have become something – someone – that I do not recognize.”

I placed a Brussel sprout on the prongs of my fork and bit into it, staring at the plate beneath me and grimacing as the noise of my throat swallowing echoed across the world.

“Shea,” Killian growled, “Not now. Not today.”

“When then, Killian? Ever since that night in this gods-cursed castle, he has changed.” She stopped in her spitting to shake her head a few times. “He has kept to this castle every hour of every day since. He lurks in every shadow and broods in every room. He cares very little for how much chaos he has caused. Yet today?” She was cackling, now. “Today, all of a sudden, he decides he wishes to spring back to life–”

Her words halted as her eyes shifted ever so slightly to Raegan’s side. To me.

I watched her throat bob as she swallowed the rest of her anger.

“Are you done, Shea?” Raegan drawled, his cockiness written across every inch of his face. “Or do you wish to shout at me some more?”

Killian’s brow cocked up as he turned to Raegan, as he recognized the tone that I had picked up on immediately. It was the one of light taunting that prefaced mockery or laughter that I had seen from him. Killian looked at him as if he had seen a ghost.

Raegan took a deep breath, the shadows moving from his face with every minute movement. “I have received word that Queen Tonn of Uisge grows more and more restless.”