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But Osheen’s warnings rang in my ears as well. A warning—if I held her too tightly, tried to leash her, she’d rip herself free and probably hurt herself in the process.
We’d worked back to a new sort of closeness, but it was as fragile as ever. I had to protect it… even if that meant not protecting her. Not from everything.
Maybe I’d let Veyka be the one to catch the interloper.
I’d enjoy watching her eviscerate them.
37
VEYKA
We needed a map.
We were wasting time, having to constantly try and check our direction, sending Arran off to scout and waiting for him to return or continuing to travel and hoping we were going in the right direction.
Arran didn’t want to go into any villages. He wanted to keep our presence in the human realm as quiet as possible. Fae didn’t come here.
The High King and Queen? Who knew what sort of human insanity that would provoke.
Not to mention the darkness that afflicted the humans.
The farther we stayed from them, the less likely we were to encounter it.
But every day we were away from Annwyn was a risk. Every day was another chance for mutiny back in Baylaur. We needed to get to Avalon, get answers, and get the hell back to our own realm.
I made these arguments nightly.
But I suspected it was the promise of a real bedroom, with real furniture and a proper bed—in which he could fuck me properly—that convinced Arran to stop at the next village.
“I would trade my sword for a real bed,” Lyrena groaned, rolling her neck.
“Not much of a soldier, are you?” Osheen shot back, grinning.
Lyrena wasn’t the only one looking forward to actual accommodations. The kind that you didn’t have to assemble and disassemble yourself.
I wasnotmade for camping.
Soft curves I had in abundance, but they did not make sleeping on the ground any more comfortable.
“Terrestrials seem to enjoy sleeping on the cold, hard dirt,” I snarked, sliding my gaze to Arran. “Something in their beastly nature, I expect.”
Lyrena hooted gleefully.
The soft rumble of Arran’s beast filled my mind. “I shall show you my beastly nature, Princess.”
“Why do you call her princess? Isn’t she the queen now?”
Arran choked. Lyrena’s laugh turned absolutely maniacal. I turned back to wink at Maisri, skipping along just behind me. Always skipping, always joyful.
Exactly as a child should be.
My heart skittered and skipped a beat inside my chest.
“He’s old,” Osheen said, sending a row of daisies up directly in Maisri’s path. “It makes him forgetful.”
Maisri plucked a stem without breaking step.
“I won’t forget this,” Arran muttered.
