Page 163 of The Reaping Rose

I hold up the ring. “You recognize it?”

“Farseth was mining it back home. So was the queen. He said it would come in handy when the Arch reopened, that he refused to be at the mercy of the Fae next time. But he didn’t explain what he was talking about. He wouldn’t even tell me what aeraliss does.”

“It protects humans from magic.”

Her gaze meets mine. “Why would that matter if the Mortal Realm barely has any?”

“It wouldn’t.” My stomach sinks. “But if the Arch opens, that isn’t the only realm they’d have access to.”

Chapter 54

Greer

A knock on my door drags me from my thoughts, and I know who it is before I pull it open. The familiar scent of burning embers and oak slips through the cracks. Atlas stands with one arm propped against the frame, towering over me, his head hung low.

When his gaze lifts, the carefree spirit that traveled at my side through Solace is gone. There are shadows in his expression. Dark circles make caves of his eyes.

I step aside, and he walks into my room without a word as I close the door behind him.

“How is Perame?” I ask, resting my back against it, terrified that if I take a step closer, I’ll slip back into that vulnerability he so easily stirs.

“Awake.” Relief courses through me at that single word.

“And her magic?”

He shakes his head, dragging a hand through his thick red hair. “We’ve yet to get that far.”

Atlas crosses his arms over his chest, which tightens his tunic over his rounded shoulders. The fading sunset streams through the room, and he glows like the flames he wields. A fire that doesn’t fade in the darkness—it comes alive.

When I woke up beside him in the cave, I almost gave in to him. Into that ever-burning flame he stokes inside me. I lay there while Atlas remained asleep, watching his chest rise and fall. I soaked in the glow of the sunrise bathing over him, and I let myself think for a moment I could explore what he awoke with his kiss.

With his touch.

And then I climbed out of the bed and got dressed, leaving those thoughts behind.

Atlas was right; Fae like us aren’t built for love. We’ve learned the hard way how it can be used against us. We’re warriors, and after our time together, we might be friends, but I refuse to give in to those errant thoughts that danced while I watched him sleep in the cave. Anything more is dangerous.

I look away just as the sun dips below the trees. “I hear we’re leaving first thing in the morning.”

“Greer.” My name pulls my gaze back to him, and he’s frowning. “About our trip⁠—”

“It was a mission, Atlas.” I brush him off, pushing off the door and busying myself around my room. “Emotions get tangled when the possibility of death sits on the horizon. We enjoyed ourselves for one night because we both thought we were going to die the next day. That’s all. We have to move on.”

“You don’t mean that.”

I glance back at him. Hurt hardens his expression. There’s always a breaking point; we all have them. Between his sister and my words, I sense Atlas is on the brink of his. But he doesn’t flinch; he doesn’t leave.

Stubborn, egotistical male.

His resolve is too strong, and if I’m not careful, he’ll be the one breaking me.

I roll my shoulders back, straightening my spine. “Don’t tell me that in all your battles you haven’t found yourself in random beds to take your mind off things. It’s what we do to disconnect from the fight—from all the death. We had fun. It was a nice distraction, but that’s all it can be.”

His jaw ticks.

“If you came here thinking I’d just fall back into bed with you⁠—”

“Gods, Greer.” He drags his hand over his face, grunting his annoyance. “That’s not why I’m here.”