Page 143 of Feralheart

“And you’re sitting here telling me you… Well you didn’t name it, now did you?”

“I did not.”

Her fingers made contact, tracing the line of my jaw, her touch feather-light. Devastating. “Maybe I have things I want to say to you too.”

My heart stopped. “Why don’t you?”

“I’m still deciding about that as well,” she said. But her thumb brushed the corner of my mouth. “Ask me again tomorrow. If we both survive.”

“That’s cruel.”

“That’s honest.” She dropped her hand to the ground, and the loss of contact felt like mourning. “Go back to your tent, Fenian. We both need sleep.”

“I don’t think I can sleep now.”

“Neither can I.” Her lips curled up. “But we should try anyway.”

“When you crossed the second lake, I saw your hands.” I’d been thinking about it since. “I’m not asking you to explain it, and I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“Why not? It’s what the elite do.”

“You’re the only person who’s seen Aristus as more than a tool. And a kingdom that would execute you for having magic is the same one that put a collar on him and called it sacred.”

Her eyes widened.

“I’m tired of pretending it’s not all broken,” I said.

“You’re the crown prince. You can’t say something like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you benefit from it.” But her voice had lost its edge.

“That doesn’t make it right.”

Her mouth twitched. “You’re supposed to be predictable. Nobles always are.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“I didn’t say I was disappointed.”

“Someone could see. Someone who’d report your abilities.”

Her hand lifted to the pendant hanging around her neck—a miniature scale the exact shade as Selira’s. “I’ll try to be more careful.”

“Alright.” I stood, brushed sand from my leathers and started to walk away.

“Fenian—Fen.”

I turned back.

She’d lain back down, Selira’s wing already settling over her. But her eyes stayed on mine. “In the second lake, I saw you choose Aristus over everything you were supposed to be.”

Her words settled in my chest.

“The others saw too.”

She was warning me. Protecting me, even now.