After sighing and shaking her head, she turned back to me with a glint in her eye. “Have you tried seducing him?”
The conversation turned to well-meaning advice for doing just that before dissolving into some highly detailed descriptions of how to ensure a lover was well satisfied. I’d never sucked a cock, but after Ella’s explanation, it felt like I had a wealth of experience. Not that it seemed I was ever going to get to use this new knowledge.
But I noted how pink Perry’s cheeks went as she gave a private smile behind her glass.
Ella and I exchanged looks, and I knew she wondered the same thing I did. When was Perry going to tell us about her relationship with Asher?
Not tonight, it seemed. And I wasn’t going to push.
Many hours later, I went to hug them goodbye and remembered myself. Gloves firmly in place, I squeezed their shoulders and blew harmless kisses.
No hugs. No touch. Distance. As I waved them off at the door, I prayed my broad smile disguised my tears.
42
Kat
I needed a cure.
Desperately.
I couldn’t keep living at arm’s length from everyone. Perry had reassured me that she’d given the stable hands clear instructions on how to care for a sabrecat, since they were used to deer. Before my latest appointment, I’d gone to visit Vespera every day. But it wasn’t the same.
So, the next morning as Bastian sat by the sitting room window and read through reports, I looked up from selecting my next research book, an old, old volume of stories—the fae equivalent of faerie tales. “Has Elthea sent word of my next appointment?”
He blinked, stared at me, blinked some more. “What?”
“I thought she might’ve made some progress after the other day.”
The crawl of the manticore’s poison echoed through me and I shuddered. I’d scratched my chest raw, waking from nightmares where the poison was many, many times bigger, wrapping around me, consuming me rather than me it.
Still, however horrible Elthea’s methods, they were my only chance at a normal life. Gathering myself, I gave a firm nod. “I’m ready for another treatment.”
His mouth dropped open as he squinted. “Absolutely not. She killed you.”
“Only temporarily.”
“This time.” He tossed the report on the table. “What if your heart doesn’t restart next time? Not that there’s going to be one.”
I pursed my lips. Old Kat wouldn’t have dared risk it. Nothing that threatened survival. But… “Going around afraid to touch anyone is not living, Bastian.”
Sucking in a breath, he rose. His eyes were so wide, so fixed on me, I wasn’t sure he realised he moved. “It—it isn’t. But…” He shook his head. “She is out of control. And the fact you won’t tell me what else she’s done has me terrified—terrified that it’s even worse.” His chest rose and fell like he fought to contain himself.
I squeezed the book to disguise my discomfort. I hadn’t told him about the memories I’d traded out of my mind. He’d berate me for being foolish enough to let someone in my head. But Kaliban had heard my thoughts whether I liked it or not—letting him wipe them away wasn’t revealing anything new. But it had given me a chance to live—and sleep—without the intrusion of unwanted memories.
I touched my chest, wincing. Bastian had given me a salve and dressings to stop my clothes rubbing on the raw skin, but it was still sore.
I needed a cure, but I didn’t need the memories of how it came about.
Bastian was already trying to stop the former. If I told him about the latter, he’d try to stop that, too. Then I really would lose my damn mind.
“It’s fine.” I gritted my teeth. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
Liar. It was his voice in my mind.
“Katherine.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know how to make you understand—”
“It’s my body.”
He stopped, mouth still open mid-sentence.
I raised my eyebrows. “You said it was always my choice.”
He exhaled, shoulders sinking. Giving in.
I didn’t just want him to give in, though. I needed him to understand. “I’ve suffered for far more pointless things than this. At least this has a purpose and I choose to endure it. I won’t be bound to you like this forever, Bastian. It isn’t fair on either of us.”
Lips pressed together, he clenched and unclenched his hands. After a moment, he threw them down at his sides and started towards me. “But I don’t want you to—”
A knock echoed through from the main door to the suite.
His eyes screwed shut as he called, “Enter.”
Brynan filed in, followed by Asher, Rose, Faolán, and a man with black hair that gleamed purple and blue when it caught the light.
The meeting. Of course. As part of bringing his work to the suite, Bastian had arranged for us all to gather here to discuss the Circle of Ash.
I gave a tight smile as Rose caught my eye and raised an eyebrow. Meanwhile, at her side, Faolán gave Bastian a similar, questioning look.
“This is Lysander.” Bastian ignored his shapechanging friend and gestured towards the stranger. “Better known as Ariadne’s husband.”
Lysander shot him a frown. “Thanks,” he drawled before approaching me and offering his hand and a smile that dimpled his cheeks. “Ari’s told me a lot about you.”
I looked from his hand to my gloved one. It was safe. I shook it, hoping my smile didn’t look too rictus. “And she’s told me all about you, too.”
It was sweet how smitten she clearly was with the fae who had “stolen” her, setting in motion Rose’s journey into Elfhame and subsequently meeting Faolán. Quite the chain reaction, the Night Queen had caused when she’d sent Lysander to enact the Tithe.
We sat and Bastian summoned tea and coffee with a word. Faolán poured coffee for Rose and himself before offering the pot to Lysander, who declined and produced a notebook from his pocket. I ran and fetched my notes, returning to find everyone seated and a space left on the settee next to Bastian.
“How’s Gael?” I asked Brynan while Bastian poured coffee for me and himself.
Much-needed coffee. I couldn’t get through the day without several cups, thanks to my nightmare-interrupted sleep.
“Better.” He sighed and nodded. “Thanks for asking. I hope you’re…” He raised his eyebrows. “Recovered?”
Bastian cleared his throat. “So, the Circle of Ash.”
Brynan nodded and rolled a large sheet of paper out over the table, pinning it down with the cups and pots. He sat poised with a pen.
Bastian took us all in. “What do we know so far?”
“It’s rumoured to end the Sleep,” Brynan said, writing as he did.
“Dawn is on its trail.” Rose sat back, both hands wrapped around her drink, but her tense expression belied her apparent calm.
At her side, Faolán growled.
“And they gained information from a text in Albion,” Asher added, stirring honey into his tea. “A text written by the Lark.”
“Then there’s its name.” Lysander wrinkled his nose. “Though I wish I could get hold of the original text. I’m sure Gael decoded it correctly, but whoever wrote the note must’ve mistranslated.”