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I raised a hand, and Conall's mouth snapped shut. "Place at my side? It's…it's just sex, Conall! And you're still speaking about me as if…as if these are maneuvers you all decide on, not decisions I make." Conall's head tipped, and my hands clenched to fists. "What?" I snapped.
Conall sighed and stepped closer, pausing as I stiffened. "You're right, of course, but—"
"But?"
He cleared his throat, glanced up at the castle and then back at me, brow furrowing slightly. "You are absolutely welcome to offer your attention, affection, to any of us,mo chroí. To all of us. Whatever suits you, of course. But we are also not…simply devices for your relief."
I inhaled sharply and Conall winced, raising his hands at his side. "Asterion is my friend. My interest in you complicates his feelings and vice versa."
My tongue felt large and clumsy in my mouth and I looked away, into the twisting branches of the orchard. My cheeks were burning. Did Conall feel used? Had Asterion touched me the night he left not because he wanted to, but because I'd been all but begging him to in the carriage ride? Had I taken mutual attraction for granted, or—
No. No, I hadn'timaginedConall's enthusiasm when touching me. Except it had always come after our game of chase…
"Evanthia?" Conall reached for me.
I tightened my arms, shrinking away just enough to give him pause. "Do you avoid bedding me…spending the night with me, because—"
"No," Conall said, cutting me off, ignoring my tense frame and rushing forward, drawing me into his arms. He huffed out a breath, tucking his chin over my shoulder. "No. You are not the only one with nightmares,mo chroí," he whispered. "I become violent. I didn't want to hurt you."
I leaned back at that and Conall straightened, meeting my gaze squarely. "Nightmares?"
He nodded but didn't elaborate. Laszlo was the only one I'd told my nightmares to, and they had come out slowly, whispered as we sipped cups of tea, the door to his lounge locked to offer us privacy.
"Have I been…pushing too much?" I asked.
"No," Conall moaned, drawing me tighter into his chest. He let out a soft, grumbling growl and his hands stroked up and down my back. "Damn the stubborn bull. I'm sorry, Evie. I've been an ass."
He's young, I thought, recalling Laszlo and the weary longing he gazed at Conall with.
"You ask for so little, less than I want to offer," Conall murmured, kissing the side of my head, burrowing his whiskered beard into my hair. "And you're right—Asterion should speak to you."
"He's spoken to you easily enough," I muttered.
Conall laughed. "Not really. Not so much as you think, and not since… Never mind. I'll stop meddling."
There'd been a moment, the start of a rainstorm and Asterion's strong arms around me, when I'd thought he was everything I wanted and needed to heal. But the weeks in the castle had made it clear that nothing would be so simple. I needed Conall's energy, his wildness. I needed Hywel's colossal power. I needed Laszlo's quiet comfort too.
I needed to be wanted, and not from an intangible distance.
"Forgive me," Conall pressed.
I sighed and sagged into his chest briefly, his own tension melting in the embrace. I pulled away after a moment, and his eyes searched my face.
"I suppose flaunting ourselves in full view of a window isn't the most subtle choice," I admitted, stepping back.
Conall's lips pursed. "Evie…"
"I am tired," I continued, offering him a wavering smile. "It's not helping my mood."
"Let's rest here," Conall offered, his hand sliding down my arm to try to tangle our fingers.
I slipped them free and turned toward the castle. "I'll go down to Hywel's hoard. I can't dream there, and I'm nearly done waxing his tail."
I ignored Conall's heavy sigh, his scuffing steps. The moment of running, laughing, the joy of being caught, had snarled and torn during the conversation. It might return tomorrow, and in the meantime I wanted time alone to think.
* * *
I heavedmyself up the stairs, forcing myself to remember the long, spiraling staircase that Laszlo had taken back up from the hoard to the great hall. Hywel's red scales gleamed in candlelight as I left, and the moon hung low over the sea by the time I was done polishing him. I wasn't sure if the moon was real, if it matched the one outside of the castle, but I'd paused at the opening of the cavern to watch it rise up from the calm waters, silver, bright, and solemn.
