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Without hesitation, I say, “No.”
Fingering the stack of papers, I carefully push them together so their edges are flush with the desk.
“Interesting.” Kenisius strokes his beard. “So, are you pissed at me for bringing her here? Or are you pissed at yourself that you can’t tell her to leave either.”
“I’m not conflicted.”
“Seems like it. Which begs the question: why?”
His smile grows in size, and I turn to face my bookshelves instead of my friend. I scan the old leather spines and bindings. I squint, noticing a thin layer of silver dust accumulating. I’ll need Das Celyn to send someone up to clean and rotate the books immediately. I should have them send the girl some books too, in case she—no.
No.
I should send her back. Or neutralize her—put her out of her misery and send her lifeless body back. At least that will spare her the pain of returning to the life she ran from. But the thought of doing so sickens me. The thought of her lying dead in the woods like so many before her is painful enough to steal my breath.
Kenisius is right. Why am I so reluctant to part with her? Why did I almost lose control entirely at the realization someone had hurt her? My immediate reaction was to hunt the bastard down and rip off the fingers that touched her, one by one.
She’s a human. A mere human.
But she’s throwing my entire world off-center, and she’s only been here for less than a day.
She might hate me for using an ancient fae trick to bind her to me—to keep her here—but I couldn’t risk her going back to whomever hurt her.
Kenisius and I both know what I refuse to say: she survived the woods.
She survived her fear.
And part of me can’t help but wonder if she could survive me, too.
Hope. The girl gives me hope. It’s a strange feeling I haven’t felt a tickle of since I was a child.
Frowning at the bookshelf, I notice a title juts out further than the others: The History and Banishment of Avylon’s Demons.
I push it back so its spine is in proper alignment with the rest.
“You smelled it, too,” Kenisius says.
“Smelled what?” My frown deepens as I turn to look at him. “Her human blood? Her terror? Her desperation?”
“No—something different.” He gives me a coy look, pressing himself into a sitting position. “She smells human, but different.”
“I have no idea what you’re referring to.”
He hums, raising a brow at me. “Doesn’t matter. You’re saving her life, you know.”
“That’s if I don’t take it first,” I mutter, silently holding onto my hope.
“Your self-control is impeccable, Rai. You’ve mastered it. Have faith in yourself.”
I lean against my desk, toying with a quill pen. “Find out who she ran from. I want to know everything about the girl.” Glancing over my shoulder, I see Kenisius’s eyes twinkling. His mouth opens, as if he’s ready to crack a joke. “Don’t Kenisius.”
He nods, his attention snagging on a letter I missed from the floor. He stoops to pick it up. It has the green seal of Terra Court.
Kenisius is the only one who knows all of my secrets.
All of them.
I couldn't care less if he peeks at my correspondence with the other courts, and we both know I’d confide in him sooner than later about it anyway.
