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“This is the way of things in Avalon, Gwendolyn.” Any hope of Grinn not having heard her crying was dashed as he spoke up. “The elementals do not trust each other. And the peasants do not trust the elementals. A brawl between two elementals has left entire cities in ruins. This is the kind of welcome you should come to expect. They would rather see you dead than help you. You would have better odds of survival as a mortal than as an elemental who wishes to think the best of those around her.”
It was shitty advice. No, that wasn’t quite true. It was probably really good advice, it justfeltshitty. It was hard for her to believe that everybody in Avalon would rather put an arrow through her heart than simply let her walk by without trouble.
“Not everybody is the same.”
Eod kicked his legs and rolled onto his back beside her, already stealing some of her pillow.
“Better to stay bonded to animals, Gwendolyn. Mordred is wrong about most things—but in that, he’s correct. Dogs do not betray their masters.” Grinn laid his head back down. “Get some sleep. We leave at first light.”
“But I’m—” She had been shot with an arrow, goddamn it.
“We leave at first light.”
With a sigh, Gwen realized there was no point in arguing with him. If she weren’t already exhausted and wounded, she probably would have stayed up all night, lost in thought. But the slow, heavy breaths of the dog and the warmth of the room dragged her off to sleep whether she liked it or not.
That seemed to be the theme of the day.
Whether she liked it or not.
That might be why she wasn’t exactly surprised when she found herself standing in Mordred’s study, warped and twisted as it was in her dreams. Great. That was all she needed—her guilty mind torturing her with visions of Mordred, likely about to lecture her for her stupidity.
Clawed hands, heavy and broad, settled on her shoulders from behind her. She shut her eyes, resisting the urge to lean against him. Damn it all if she just didn’t seriously need a hug today. She sniffled.
Who cared if she cried in front of dream Mordred? He wasn’t really there. “Take it easy on me tonight, will you? I’ve had a really shitty day.”
He turned her to face him, but she kept her eyes shut. She didn’t want to see his disapproving, angry glower. When the backs of his knuckles traced over her cheek, she was so surprised at their tenderness that she blinked and looked up at him.
Those rust-colored, molten eyes of his were filled with concern. His hood was gone, and so was all his armor save for what covered his arms. She decided she was going to call the lookBusiness Casual for Supernatural Tyrants.She wanted to crack a joke about it, but there was something so arresting in the way he was staring at her that she just couldn’t.
“You are hurt.” His eyes flicked between hers, as if searching for more. “What has happened? Are you all right?”
At least her dream version of Mordred was concerned about her. “I’ll be all right.” She let out a wavering breath. “I got shot with an arrow.”
“What?”
She jolted at his angry shout.
His hands were on her shoulders again, squeezing them insistently. “Who? Who has done this to you?”
“A farmer.” Dreams were weird. Wouldn’t her dream version of Mordred already know about this? Whatever. It was just her sleeping mind trying to logic through what had happened and process the trauma. “He was just scared and trying to protect his home. I don’t blame him.”
“Tell me he is dead.” His expression darkened in rage. “Or I shall quickly see it done.”
“Eod beat you to it.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m glad I didn’t see it. Hard to imagine that cute puppo ripping someone’s throat out.”
“Then I trained him well.” He stroked a gauntlet over her hair soothingly. “Are you safe?”
“I think so. I don’t really know.” She shut her eyes again, loving the feeling of his touch. “I’m scared and I don’t know what to do.”
“I should not have sent you away. I…was angry.”
“Understatement,” she murmured. “But I deserved it.”
He tilted her head up toward him. “Come back to me, firefly. I will keep you safe.”
She studied his face for a moment. There was concern and worry etched deep into his handsome features. But there was something else there too. Something she didn’t dare give a name to. Something that was almost as terrifying as when he was glaring at her.
“You told me to run and hide. You said next time you saw me that I’d be your prisoner forever.” She felt a tear escape the corner of her eye.
