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“Why are you doing this?”

“Because you want me to,” he answers. “Besides, there is plenty of room until we figure out what to do with them,” he says, tugging me against his side.

I stop, wondering if he will do something else. He stops but is still holding my hand.

“What is it?” he asks. I hesitate in asking.

“Will you open the gates?”

“Well yeah, we kind of have to, to find them,” he says.

I shake my head. “No, the border gates.”

Silas scrunches up his face. “You want me to open the borders? You don’t know what you’re asking, Lora.”

“Yes, I do. people want to leave the city, and you should let them,” I tell him. He tugs my hand, and we keep walking.

“You think the borders are closed because we don’t want anyone let out?”

I nod.

“There are worse things out there than in here; that’s why the borders are so heavily guarded. That’s why no one leaves, Elora”

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter right now; let’s find these kids you want to help,” he says, draping his arm across my shoulders.

It takes us around twenty minutes to find the fabric warehouse. As soon as I step in, I find a host of children from the ages of toddlers all the way to teens. They are all underweight, not clothed for the weather, yet have managed to make beds out of leftover cuts of fabric. They show the resourcefulness you need to survive in this city; the same street smarts I was forced to endure growing up here. You make do with what you have or can make yourself. It hits home with me. Silas, however, looks shocked, like he never really paid attention to what the people of this city were suffering. As soon as he enters the warehouse behind me, they all take off running for their lives.

“Wait, wait, please don’t run. He won’t hurt you,” I call out, still, they hide. A couple of the teens grab the smaller kids and take off, all except one which I approach. She is only about three and definitely the youngest. Her dark, black curly hair is long and knotted, the ringlets sitting just above her shoulder. She has green eyes with bags under them, hollow cheeks showing how malnourished she is. Picking her up, I place her on my hip and she is like picking up a newborn. She weighs barely anything. I can feel nearly all her bones along her spine. She is freezing cold even with the makeshift blanket wrapped around her and she has a terrible cough.

“Please don’t let him eat my sister,” a little boy with the same dark hair as the girl, calls out rushing into the warehouse. He shares her green eyes, their scents are similar, indicating they are blood relatives. The little girl holds her arms out for him, scared of us, so I pass her to him.

The little boy goes to run off when I grab his arm, making him stop. “We want to help,” I tell him. The boy looks toward Silas.

“We don’t need any help, especially from the Dragon King,” he spits.

I will give him one thing: he is brave to say those words in front of him with such a tone. Silas isn’t a forgiving person, so I am shocked by his reaction. He turns and walks out, leaving me alone with the children.

“Silas,” I yell out to him, but he ignores me and keeps walking. Should I chase after him? I don’t know what to do. He just left me here. The kids come out slowly once he’s gone and I can feel Silas’s anger through the bond. I wait. However, after half an hour he still hasn’t returned. So I try to do what I can to help make them a little more comfortable.

“You’re the Fae?” one girl says, coming up to me. She has black curly hair and pale skin, around the age of twelve. I nod, not really knowing what to say.

“So, you can save us?” she says.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I tell her, confused.

“You have magic?” she asks, also confused.

“Yes, but I don’t know how to use it yet.”

She nods in understanding.

“So, you’re going to rid the Kingdom of the Dragon Kings?” she asks, her words shocking me.

“No, they are my mates.”

“So, you’re one of them?” she asks, stepping away from me.