Page 127 of A Thief Among Fae

I pretend I don’t notice. “What’s your favorite tea?” I ask him.

“Peppermint.” The answer comes too quickly, like it’s been a long time since someone asked him a question about himself. For the briefest moment, warmth flickers in his eyes. Then it vanishes. “Cynthia.” His voice lowers. “I need you to listen carefully.”

The shift sends unease coiling through me. I straighten.

“If I fall asleep and have a nightmare, do not touch me.”

I frown. “Desmond⁠—”

“At any cost.” His jaw tightens hard enough to ache. “I mean it.” The warning sounds less like a threat and more like a plea.

The fire crackles louder in the silence that follows.

“You think you’ll hurt me?” My voice cracks involuntarily.

“I know I could.” His gaze remains fixed on the flames, but every muscle in his body looks carved from stone. “I’ll stay awake,” he mutters. “That’s safer.”

“No. Absolutely not.” I can’t lie to myself that I’m not afraid when he’s so adamant that he should be restrained. But my conviction to keep him company is even stronger than the fear. I’ve survived tombs overrun with traps. I’ve persevered through famine. Fear won’t stop me now.

His brows furrow.

“You’re exhausted already,” I continue. “You’ve been pushing yourself for days, and if you stay awake all night watching for danger, you’ll be useless tomorrow.”

“I’d rather be useless than risk⁠—”

“You’re sleeping.” The command leaves my mouth sharper than intended.

He looks startled by it. Honestly, so am I.

I lower my voice. “You can’t keep punishing yourself every time something scares you.”

A muscle feathers in his jaw. For a long moment, neither of us speaks.

Then, with obvious reluctance, he lies down and closes his eyes. “Go back to your roll. Please.”

I almost argue that I’ll stay by his side. Yet I don’t want to push him any farther than I have already, so I retreat to my bedroll. Crickets chirp in the field around us, and the howling call of a wild animal has the hairs on my neck rising. It’s not a call that I recognize.

Still, I feel safe. I know that even with his hands bound, Desmond wouldn’t let harm come to me.

Maybe that’s how I manage to lie down, letting my eyes flutter closed with a sigh.

I wake to the sound of Desmond choking on a scream.

Chapter 36

For one disoriented moment, I don’t know where I am. The campfire has burned low, reduced to glowing embers and thin ribbons of smoke. My roll is tangled around my legs, the cold biting at my face.

Then I hear him again.

“No—” The word breaks from him raggedly.

I push upright so quickly that I trip trying to get out of my roll.

Desmond thrashes, his breaths harsh and uneven. Sweat glistens across his brow despite the chilly air. His hands clench so tightly that the leather cord strains around his wrists. Purple light pulses beneath the skin of his arms, lighting up his veins.

I freeze, remembering when that same light lit Gashil from within. Gashil had thrashed like it hurt worse than the strike of a blade. He fled because of it.

The glow pulses, brightening every time his body jerks. Small sparks snap from his fingers, hissing before vanishing. The air is charged with an energy that makes my skin crawl. It feels wrong. Unnatural. Goosebumps rise across my skin.