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The massive oak double doors were open to reveal the stacks beyond. Rows and rows and rows filled with parchment and thick, musty books. The librarian was a stodgy, old Fae male who was a steward like Valia but treated everyone as if they were beneath him. She didn’t mind him that much. She could deal with his ill humor when she was surrounded by the books. The smell of parchment and the feel of endless memory all in one place. It was enough to make her want to skip through the halls.
She bypassed the librarian and searched for Fordham. A part of her felt more connected to him than her dragon. She couldn’t feel a bond with Tieran at this distance, but something about Fordham pulled her to his hiding spot before she ever knew he was there. He scratched out a verse on a piece of parchment. Several had already been discarded next to him, likely burned to ash later if he hated them that much. Her sad, broody prince writing his sad, broody poetry. The only thing he kept entirely to himself. She’d read a sliver of it once and immediately felt as if she was invading his privacy. She’d do anything to know what was on that paper. What he wrote about when he thought no one else was watching.
“There you are,” she said finally.
Fordham startled. He shoved the paper under a book half the size of the large oak table. The poetry vanishing that quickly. “Kerrigan, you found me.”
“Indeed.”
“What did Bastian want?”
Kerrigan sighed heavily and plopped down in the seat next to him. She hadn’t even planned to come see him. They had barely seen each other outside of classes. They were careful and professional and not at all what she actually wanted from him. But in this moment, she wanted her friend.
“I know that look. What did you do now?” he asked.
She glanced up into those smoky-gray eyes. Her stomach fluttered with that one look. How had she once thought him so sinister? She knew objectively that he was terrifying, but when he looked at her, it wasn’t there anymore.
“I might have gotten involved with a group called RFA—Rights For All.”
Fordham waited. He didn’t interrupt. Just sat there and let her tell her story.
“It’s an organization that is trying to petition the Society for equal protection and rights under the law. A representative on the council, a say in the government, better treatment by the Guard, that sort of thing.”
“I’m sure that’s popular,” he said sarcastically.
“Yeah. Well, more people than I thought, honestly. I went to a meeting with Clover and found out that I’m”—she huffed in annoyance at the next words—“some sort of celebrity.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“I know. It’s ridiculous, but I’m here right now, and believers are taking that as a symbol that the Society is ready for change.”
“Okay.” He still sounded dubious.
“So, I went to a protest and spoke to some people there. We marched through the streets, and it was amazing. I felt so supported. I’ve wanted this for so long.” She shook her head. “But Bastian found out I was there.”
“Is he going to kick you out?” His voice was laced with concern.
“No, he wants me to be careful. If Lorian gets wind of it …”
Fordham grimaced. “Don’t let him find out.”
“I know. But how do I get people to participate and the Society to listen if I stay hidden?”
Fordham was silent for a moment, as if he didn’t have an answer. But then he finally met her gaze again. “I haven’t been the best advocate for human and half-Fae rights. I was raised to see them… you, as lesser. Though I am trying to be better.”
She nodded, knowing what the admission had cost him.
“Could I join you the next time you go to something for the RFA?”
Kerrigan blinked. That wasn’t what she’d thought he’d say. “You want to come to a protest?”
“You shouldn’t stay hidden. You can’t be contained, and no one should try to force you. Wild and untamed are the only ways in which you should exist,” he said, his hand sliding across the distance between them and settling on hers. Her pulse jumped in the hollow of her throat at the bare touch. “I want to be there to see you change the world. Because I already know that you will.”
Kerrigan’s throat bobbed. She didn’t have words.
She wanted to kiss him. To pull their bodies together in the stacks and get lost in him entirely. Their bodies hovered in that space, a beat between them. She moved a few inches forward, and he mirrored her. She could have reached out, but she couldn’t keep asking for something that he wouldn’t reciprocate. And here they were, in this moment, and all they had to do was finish, push their lips together and forget the world.
