My head snaps to Finn. I’d asked him how he was when we arrived this morning, but he blew me off and said not to coddle him. Now I see beads of sweat on his forehead that I hadn’t noticed before.
“Well, you can’t fix any of that if you’re hungry,” Pretha tells Jalek, taking the seat beside Finn. “So eat.” She mops Finn’s forehead, and he swats her away.
“I’m fine,” he grumbles.
“You have a fever?” I ask Finn. “Have you been using the salve?”
“It’s not from that.” His jaw twitches; he’s sick of explaining this. “It’s a regular fever.”
“How do the stitches look?” I ask. “Is there redness or swelling?”
“I looked at it myself this morning,” Pretha says, avoiding my gaze. “We’re dealing with it. Now sit.”
Reluctantly, I sit next to Pretha, and Tynan passes around a platter of sandwiches while Jalek fills our glasses with a sparkling water that tastes like sunshine and lemons—a description I would have found ridiculous before coming to Faerie simply because I wouldn’t have understood that it . . . fits.
I’m halfway through my sandwich and the guys are working on seconds when Kane walks into the kitchen, a woman by his side.
The conversation halts, and everyone stops eating.
Finn pushes back from the table and stands. The wolves I hadn’t even noticed appear from the shadows and take their places on either side of him. “What’s this?” His voice is dangerously quiet.
Kane bows his head. “I found you a tribute.”
I’ve heard that word before. People in Elora are paid well to go to Faerie as tributes. My cousins would giggle about what they thought was involved, but the only thing that was clear to me was that tributes never came home. I push my chair back and head toward the girl, but Pretha grabs me by the wrist and holds tight. “Brie. Don’t.”
“I didn’t ask for a fucking tribute,” Finn barks. His anger radiates off every word. “Take her home.”
“Finn.” Kane’s voice is hard and nearly matches Finn’s. “Be reasonable.”
The girl steps forward. She’s not much older than I am and very pretty. Her long blond hair is swept back from her face with combs, showing off her high cheekbones and shining blue eyes. I wonder what her name is. I wonder if she has a family who will miss her.
I yank on my arm again, but Pretha holds me tight. “She’s not doing anything she doesn’t want to do, Abriella.”
The girl bows her head. “Please, my prince. I escaped Mordeus’s court. I’ve lived in Faerie all my life, and I’ve . . . I’ve seen enough to understand what I’m doing.” She drops to her knees—bowing, I realize. “Please?”
Finn looks at her long and hard, then at Kane. With a sharp shake of his head, he storms out of the room, his wolves following quietly behind him.
Pretha winces. Kane mutters a curse under his breath. And the girl buries her face in her hands and sobs.
“I’ll talk to him,” Jalek says.
Pretha stops him with a hand to his chest. “No. I’ll do it.” She follows Finn to the library and shuts the door behind her.
“I’m sorry,” Kane tells the girl. “Just give him a minute.”
“Does someone want to explain what’s happening here?” I give a pointed look to Jalek and Tynan.
Jalek shakes his head and begins clearing the table. Tynan stoops to help the girl stand up, murmuring reassurances.
“I’m going out back,” I announce, not that they’re paying me any attention. I follow the hallway to the back of the house and welcome the summer breeze on my face as I let the door bang closed behind me.
I’m so sick of being kept in the dark. I’m so sick of the people I’m forced to trust not trusting me with anything.
The library windows are open. I cross the patio to listen, but I can’t make out the conversation happening inside. Pretha has likely shielded the room against eavesdroppers . . . against me.
I straighten. If I want to know what’s happening in there, I’m completely capable.
I close my eyes and feel myself dissolve to shadow, to darkness, to nothing. I don’t open them again until I’ve slowly slipped through the wall, through the wards they have around the house, through Pretha’s shield, and into the library.
Finn is sprawled out on the couch, one hand hanging over the back and the other massaging his temples. “Abriella isn’t ready. If I ask now, I risk her becoming suspicious.”