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Wyn had his face smooshed to the glass, but with its glorious ruby red and rippled appearance, she doubted he’d see much. And Sorin was likely still miles away. She couldn’t feel him, not yet. She almost envied Wyn that ability, but he had such joy in him in that moment, she shoved the petty emotion aside.
“Here. Let’s open this...” She’d discovered the mechanism last night during one of her long, sleepless episodes of pacing. She’d barely slept since leaving him. The first few nights, she busied herself learning the intricacies of this cave where Sorin had made his home.
But each night her need for him grew worse.
Each night, she told herself she could wait for him to finish and find her, then she had to remind herself she couldn’t leave a shade to watch the boy.
Last night had been the worst.
Her friend had stayed a few days so he could talk with Wyn. Ewan Starfell and his wife Kathleen, along with their daughter Eirian, had come at her request, Gia still uncertain about the magic she sensed in the boy.
The Starfells lived near Durham and the human/Fae conflict there was accelerating. She’d hoped to convince them to leave Eirian here, but that wouldn’t happen. Eirian was fifteen. That was barely more than nine or teen in fae years, but being only half-Fae, she looked older and she’d refused to let her parents leave her behind.
But with them in the house, it would have been safe for her to slip away and run the distance to where she’d left Sorin.
Wyn, though, had insisted she’d read him a story, then another, and another.
The weariness of the past few weeks had caught up with her and she’d fallen asleep next to him.
By the time she woke, it had been in the early hours near dawn and she’d followed the faint noises to find Ewan, Kathleen and Eirian packed, ready to leave.
“An attack near the compound where we have refugees hiding. We have to go.” Ewan had given her a sad, somber look.
Gia understood. She’d been fighting in small skirmishes herself for several years. But the skirmishes were getting bigger, taking longer...killing more.
Now, as the clever mechanism built into the stone rolled the stained glass window away to allow for a clear view of the vista, Wyn leaned forward. “Eirian’s brave, isn’t she? And really pretty.”
“She is.” Suspecting a bit of crush, she tugged on a lock of Wyn’s hair. “But she’s probably a bit too old for you.”
“Yeah. I know. But she’s still really pretty.” He gave her a bashful grin. “And her dad’s a hero.”
“Heroes are just people who try to help others. You’re a hero, Wyn. In the end, so was your mother.”
His cheeks went pink at that. “Was my father a hero?”
Over the past week, Gia had learned enough bits and pieces about Amy’s lost husband to understand what had driven her. Her half-Fae husband had died because he wouldn’t give up the names of a shadow witch who had known Gia—that was why Amy had sought out Gia, befriended her—a broken piece inside her craving vengeance. But then the friendship had become real, even on Amy’s part.
“Yes, my little love,” Gia said. “He was most definitely a hero.”
“I...” Wyn went quiet, his head cocking.
A moment later, Gia’s shade whispered into view. She cocked her head and smiled at Wyn.
Wyn nodded at her and Gia rolled her eyes, unsurprised that her shade was communicating with the boy privately.
The shadow shifted her attention to Gia. “Your mate comes.”
She was about to bitch about why she hadn’t felt him.
But she realized she could feel him.
Heat along her spine. Fire on the back of her tongue.
Whipping her head to the window, she squinted her eyes and leaned out.
And there he was, a golden speck at first, but growing larger.
Laughing, she scooped Wyn up.
