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“Fuck, why didn’t I think of that?”
“Think of what? Oh, you shouldn’t use your brain so much, Commander,” he says. “You might strain it.”
“Shut up. The persafin, that was the term.”
“Sounds like a snake thing.”
“It’s a dragon thing. Dragons being the ancestors of the Fae, of course.”
“Stop showing off your knowledge, and especially to a Temple priest. It’s unbecoming and embarrassing.”
“A renegade priest.”
“As much as you are a renegade commander.”
“Point is, Finn…” I rub a hand over my face, only too aware of the handsome priest’s solid warm body pressed to mine from behind. “The persafin is a term from the old books about the Fae and their clans and it seemed to mean a pooling of power inside the clan as it came together.”
“Are you saying…” He’s silent for a few beats, that quicksilver mind of his surely untangling my vague words, pulling them apart and examining each one. “Pooling of power. Do you mean magic?”
“Perhaps. Or just extra sensory abilities humans don’t have.”
“Like sensing the south.”
“Yeah.”
“And… when you say it happens as the clan came together… the clan is the family.”
“Composed of an omega and her or his alphas, yes.”
He’s silent again.
Then, with a muffled curse, he releases me, leans back and jumps off the horse. I turn around to watch him stalk through the meadow we’re standing in, against the dramatic backdrop of rocky hills.
“Finn! Come back here.”
He stops after a few more steps, his back to me. I watch his broad shoulders rise and fall rapidly. The knot he has tied his hair in at the back of his neck has mostly come undone, and pale strands flutter in the cold breeze.
With a sigh, I dismount, loop the reins over the horse’s head and go after him. “Finn. Talk to me.”
“About your inability to track Ari?”
“You know, I feel pretty damn pissed at myself right now without any help from you.”
His back stiffens more. “You could always use a helping hand.”
“I could, but rather in our search for Ariadne. I told you, I can’t see the trail. Maybe you can help me with that.”
“I’m just a blind ex-priest.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” I have almost reached him by now and he hasn’t moved from the spot. I take it as a good sign. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”
“You mean apart from failing Ariadne?”
“Yes, apart from that. Use words, Finn. Tell me.”
“You want me to trust you with my innermost thoughts. To lay my feelings on the table. To act as if I’ve known you all my life.”
“Yes,” I say simply.
