Page 63 of The Last Heir of Elsewhere

“Who is your closest friend?”

To my surprise, the smile immediately slipped off her face. “I’m not answering that. Ask something else.”

I leaned forward, confusion washing over me. “No, that’s my question. Who is your closest friend?”

“Ask something else, or I’m leaving.”

“No.”

She stood abruptly, the legs of her chair screeching across the floor. Her face had gone white, and her mouth twisted in an angry snarl. “This is pointless. I only came here to eat, anyway. Keep your information, I can find out anything I want to know without your help and without being taunted like this.”

She turned on her heel and stormed from the room, and all I could do was stare after her.

What the fuck had just happened?

25

LONNIE

ABOARD THE FORESIGHT

Istormed back across the ship, and threw open the cabin door, still fuming.

Tearing off the stupid, too-tight dress, I threw myself onto the small bed in nothing but my underthings, and buried my head in the pillow.

Fucking Ambrose Dullahan…fucking questions. Fucking Fae.

The bastard had caught me unaware, with the sort of question that shouldn’t have stung, but somehow opened up a gaping wound inside me that I was only just managing to not think about on a daily basis.

My sister had been my closest, and only, friend, and it was because of Ambrose Dullahan that she was no longer here with me. It was because of him that she’d charged into battle with the rebels and stood there as King Penvalle murdered her right in front of me…and I didn’t even know why.

Of all the questions I had for the rebel leader, what happened to my sister was the most important, and the most terrifying to ask.

Learning about my mother had been painful enough.

For nearly ten years, I’d believed my mother to be dead, and it was only in the last weeks that I’d had any hope to the contrary. If she was alive, then why would she stay away so long? Why would she not return to find my sister and I?

I couldn’t face the possibility that I might know just as little about my sister as my mother. That maybe the friendship I’d thought we shared was a lie, just like everything else.

Without warning, the door banged open again. “What the fuck was that?”

I kept my face buried in the pillow, even as I knew Ambrose Dullahan was standing in the doorway, watching me. His heavy boots stomped across the floor, stopped beside the bed, and I felt the radiating warmth of his skin and magnetic presence looming over me.

“Leave me alone,” I murmured, my voice muffled. “I’m done talking to you. I’d rather starve.”

“I’m sure you would.”

He chuckled under his breath, and sat down on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped with his weight, and I snatched my feet up to my chest, curling into a smaller ball to avoid inadvertently touching him. “I said go away.”

“No,” he replied calmly. “Not until you tell me what’s upset you.”

“Used to knowing everything about everyone, I take it. You don’t like being in the dark?”

“Precisely,” he said flatly. “I know more than any one person ever should, but you, love, are a mystery.”

I clenched my teeth together, my anger rising higher at the sound of that nickname.

“Fine.” I sat up, hardly even aware of my lack of clothing until his black eyes darted automatically to my body, before flicking back up to meet my eyes. I shivered, but refused to stand to find something to cover myself with. “You want to know what’s upsetting me?”

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