Page 91 of Stroke of Shadows

Waking in Sythe’s arms had been a surprise, one that had her scrambling out of his hold in a panic. Her memories had been sluggish, which wasn’t unusual after a particularly rough episode. But when they’d cleared, she had to live through everything again. Every sickening touch. Every vile breath. Every agonising second.

Sythe had somehow removed Ivan’s body, leaving no trace of his death behind. And then once she’d calmed, he’d held her once more. Until the sun had risen and there were no tears left.

“Please, just try.” His fingers brushed beneath her jaw, tipping her head back. “What do you have to lose?”

A strange warmth spread from the centre of her chest, one she wanted to wrap herself in and never let go. It had been steadily growing, a sensation that seemed connected to Sythe. But surely that was impossible?

‘What do you have to lose?’

It wasn’t about loss. It was about trust. Vulnerability. She’d spent the majority of her life alone, and now a man she barely knew was asking her to trust him with something she didn’t understand.

A vibration, followed by a flash of frustration across Sythe’s features.

“You should answer it,” Harper said, clearing her throat of the unsaid, clogged emotions. “It could be important.”

“It’s just Wyatt.”

The mention of her cousin’s name brought a fresh wave of panic. What was she doing? She couldn’t be seen with a faerie. She couldn’t be seen anywhere but at the estate. If she was caught—

“Look at me, darling.” His fingers tightened slightly, drawing her attention back at him and to those caramel eyes. “Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.”

His smile was pure warmth, his dimple appearing beneath his stubble. “I just did.”

“You guys ready?” Thea waited a respectable distance, her shoulder leaning against a bright red phone box. One that hadn’t made or received a phone call in years if she went by the piles of books lodged inside.

Sythe didn’t take his eyes from hers, and after a moment Harper calmed. “Yeah, okay.” She stepped back, the wind whipping at her once more. “I thought you said this was a pub?”

Sythe kneeled, brushing his fingers along a small circular disk embedded into the pavement. “The Three-Headed Dog.”

Thea nodded. “The owner’s old, like real old. Older than the city, at least.” She pointed to the two black lanterns that framed the crumbling brick, only one lit. “Two lanterns mean it’s busy. One is quiet, and off means closed.” Harper linked her arm in hers, then gestured for Sythe.

He eyed Thea’s outstretched hand as if it were a snake.

She smirked. “Don’t piss anyone off, and you’ll be fine. Probably.” Thea snapped out to tug Sythe’s hand. “Come on, stop being a pussy.”

“I’ll have you know being a pussy wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

“At least I know your head’s hard enough to break through if this goes wrong.”

Sythe grumbled. “What do you mean, if this goes wrong?”

Harper couldn’t stop her smile at their bickering.

“Careful, Starlight.” Sythe’s eyes glistened with a mischievous glint when they met hers. “Or I’ll think you prefer the faerie to me.”

Thea snorted. “Okay, remember don’t upset anyone and we all leave here alive and happy. Ready? One, two…”

An intense cold overwhelmed Harper, the sensation only lasting for a second before it dissipated into gentle pinpricks across her skin. Thea hadn’t just pushed them into the wall, they’d passed through it all together.

Sythe groaned, a tremor shaking his entire body. “What happened to three?”

“Three’s overrated.” Thea released them both. “Just look at the floor and don’t gain any attention.”

Harper blinked, not quite believing where she was. The drizzly London weather had been replaced with a warm room swamped in colour. The walls were all different shades of earthy tones, while the tall ceiling seemed to shimmer in gentle pastels. It looked as if there were clouds, at least two to three stories high, made of light purples, pinks, and blues. Hundreds of candles flickered through the vapours, floating and bobbing as if on strings. Except there were no strings, it was magic.

It was mesmerising. Beautiful before it registered where she was. In a pub full of Fae. Harper’s head snapped to the side, taking in the various creatures enjoying a drink.

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