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Her eyes snapped to mine through her reflection. Her lips twisted as she wrinkled her nose, like she could smell my breath all the way from over there. The woman wasn’t a damn shifter, so I knew she couldn’t smell me.
“Stop giving me that look. You’re not a wolf.” I scoffed at her.
She turned and raised herself to her full height, her head tilted ever so…threateningly. It was the stiffness of her form, like a predator about to strike. She narrowed her eyes before saying, “You think I don’t know that?”
I’d hit a nerve, but I wasn’t sure how. I lifted my hands, palms out, and backed away slowly before the ire in those sage green eyes burned me to ash on the spot.
“You think I didn’t realize that when all my friends were shifting for the first time? When my Dad was standing in my bedroom doorway, asking me why I was too afraid to let my wolf out for the first time? I think I already know that I’m not a damn wolf shifter. I had to learn it the hard way.”
Her lips curled as she looked me up and down. “You’re a disgrace. I don’t need a drunk watching over me anyway. I’m fine now. You can go back to your favorite hobby and forget about me.”
Fury igniting the alcohol in my gut, I marched right up to her. “Listen here, you brat of a woman. You were given to a safe family. I’m sorry that things got a little mixed up. You should be grateful that you didn’t die with the rest of your family. I was there. You were spared everything that I had to endure. You won’t judge me for drinking when you find out what I’ve been through.”
We stared each other down. It seemed we were stuck at a rage-fueled impasse. I was fine with that. Spinning, I went right back to the bar cart. My nerves were fried. They burned at the ends, the memories of my court’s downfall rising like choking smoke after a wildfire.
I drank to numb that ever-searing pain. Only brown liquor could chase away the guilt sitting heavy inside me. I dragged my stone feet over to the cart and paused. Staring down at the bottle, an urge gripped me. I took the bottle and left the cup behind. If Cerridwen wanted to argue, I would buy her a fresh bottle in the morning.
Lifting the bottle to my lips, I took a long swig before throwing myself down onto the couch.
5
CERRI
“You can figure this out on your own,” Rhoan rasped, his back to me.
My stomach still threatened to throw up everything I’d put into it. While purging the flying ointment would have been a good idea, I couldn’t risk expunging the cure I’d had Rhoan put together for me.
As badly as I wanted to toss that man out the widow, it was boarded up right now. Besides, he’d helped me make that cure. The man followed instruction well when he wanted to.
A part of me wanted to tell him what I’d seen, but I was afraid of what he’d seen. When I looked him in the eye, I saw depths of rage and despair similar to Ness’s. The man had, as they might say,seen some shit. I wasn’t ready to open that door.
I’d already slammed through so many others.
Rhoan was a warrior who’d worked for my fae parents. It’d been his job to protect them. I was afraid that if I knew what he knew, then I would blame him for what’d happened. It didn’t seem fair. I knew that I could be harsh on people, though. Anger at my friends still simmered inside me. I didn’t know how to forgive them for letting me get hurt over and over.
Rhoan had let peopledie.
I swallowed. These feelings weren’t going to help anyone. They were toxic, poisoning me more than the flying ointment I’d taken. My friends didn’t deserve my anger. They’d been trying their best with threats of death hanging over their own heads. Besides, I’d offered them all my help. If I’d wanted to stay safe, I could have run in the other direction.
I knew the cost when I offered to join in their fights. Now, I had to deal with the consequences.
“Go home,” I told Rhoan. “You don’t have to sleep on the glass couch.”
He stiffened. Slowly turning a worried look in my direction, he asked what I meant by that.
Shrugging, I said, “I mean go home. What’s so hard to understand about that?”
“Not that part. Fast forward. This couch isn’t made of glass. It feels like fabric, wood, and metal springs to me. Just like any other human couch.” He bounced on the seat as if he needed to make sure he wasn’t imagining it.
I gestured to the wood panels over my floor-to-ceiling windows. “That window has been busted inwards twice in three months. The most recent was the night before I met you. I had…a visitor. That couch has seen glass rain twice now.”
His brow furrowed while his eyes went wide. It was a laughable expression, especially when his gaze slowly dropped to the cushion beneath him. When he looked back up at me, there was true concern on his face. “You survived an assassination attempt? How did you escape?”
“I didn’t.” I turned towards my bedroom. “I killed him.”
Rhoan
The glass shardsin the couch didn’t bother me all that much. I barely felt their prickle through the numbness that my drink had brought me. Besides, I had a nice thick layer of leather with my vest.
