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“Um…” In an instant, everything rushed back. The grief that had choked me as I’d stared into my old home, unable to step foot inside. Seeing it so neglected, forgotten, the garden overgrown, everything inside coated in dust and left to rot.
My chin trembled. Lonan made a soft sound in his throat and enveloped me in his arms, pressing his mouth to the side of my neck.
I let out a shuddering breath, burying my face in his hair. All I’d wanted as we travelled back was to let myself be truly vulnerable with Lonan, to let myself cry until it exhausted me, knowing he would be there to comfort me.
But now that I was back… now that I could see what Lonan was struggling with himself, after already losing so much, I didn’t think it was fair to depend on him that way. To unload all my burdens onto him when he already had so many himself.
I needed to be strong for him. The balance of power was tipped in my favour now. I had an entire stretch of land that was mine. I had subjects and staff. I had the means to keep him safe, to keep him away from his terrible family. I hadn’t wanted any of it, but I wasn’t going to squander it.
I may have been near unkillable now, but Lonan wasn’t. Lonan could still get hurt. One day he would become a king himself, but the thought of us even attempting to take his crown filled me with dread. It would mean going to unseelie. Facing the Carlin. Facing Lonan’s brothers, all while he was still painfully vulnerable.
There’s no rush, I thought as I pulled back and gave Lonan a watery smile. We have all the time in the world. We can’t act rashly. We need a plan.
But I didn’t want to discuss a plan to kill the Carlin. I was still too raw, and the thought of Lonan facing her still scared me too much. So instead, I said, “Let’s go and have some dinner. And then I need a bath.”
Lonan watched me for a few moments, his face sombre, but he nodded and took my hand as we headed for the doors.
Chapter Thirteen
Ash
“Do you want to talk about it?” Lonan asked me later that evening as we lay in bed.
We’d had a quiet dinner together, which had helped to chase away some of the ache still lingering in my chest. After a bath, we’d climbed into bed even though it wasn’t dark yet, deep gold light from the setting sun glowing against the drawn curtains.
“It was…” Pursing my lips, I shuffled closer to Lonan. He shifted onto his back, allowing me to rest my head on his chest. “Sad,” I finished numbly, not sure I had the words to truly articulate how it had felt going back there.
“I’m sure,” Lonan murmured, threading his fingers through my hair.
“I don’t know what will happen to it. To the house,” I croaked, staring at the wall, trying to focus on Lonan’s steady heartbeat beneath my ear. “I don’t know how it works. Dad and Mags owned it outright, so there’s no bank to… It might just sit there. With all their stuff still inside.”
Lonan said nothing. Not that I’d expected him to have an answer—he couldn’t have known what happened to mortal homes after all the mortals in them were gone.
Clearing my throat, I kissed his chest before sitting up. “I got a couple of things.”
Lonan shifted into an upright position as I climbed out of bed to retrieve my satchel. Sitting back down beside him, I opened it and carefully pulled out the items.
“It’s hideous,” I said with a weak chuckle as I smoothed out Dad’s jumper, blinking hard when my eyes grew hot yet again. “But it was his favourite. He’s had it since I was a baby.”
Lonan didn’t say anything, and when I glanced over, his dark eyes looked bleak. Haunted. He was staring at the jumper, long fingers absently rubbing at the scar that ringed his right forearm.
My gut cramped with unease. I hadn’t meant to make him feel guilty by showing him these things, but I could tell what he was thinking. He hadn’t been the one to kill them, but it had still been by his hand—his sword, thanks to his vile brother.
Cupping his chin, I leaned in and kissed his cheek. His eyes flitted to me and away again just as fast, shoulders hunched over almost protectively.
I swallowed. Even though it felt vital for me to share this part of myself with him, I said, “I don’t have to show you—”
“No,” he said immediately. “I want to see them. They’re important to you.”
Exhaling, I shifted the jumper aside and passed him Mags’ cookbook, my fingers clinging to the worn cover with its bumblebee pattern, reluctant to let go.
“I hadn’t realised she’d written a note to me in it,” I said, watching as Lonan carefully flipped the cover back and stared down at Mags’ tiny, neat handwriting. My voice shook as I tried not to burst into tears. “But uh… maybe I can make you something from it.”
Lonan’s long, dark hair obscured his face as he kept his head bent, staring at the book. He closed it abruptly and set it down on the bed. I heard him let out a shaky breath.
“Ash—”
“No,” I interrupted, tangling my fingers through his and squeezing. “It wasn’t you. It wasn’t your fault. So don’t.”
