Page 90 of A Fate so Cruel

“You didn’t sound . . . fine.”

He scooted from the bed and walked to the fire, staring at the glowing embers, willing them to chase the remnants of his own monsters back into the shadows. “Get some sleep.”

Silence for a breath. Two. “You weren’t out long.” Was that pity in her voice?

“I won’t be able to go back to sleep anyway.” Not after seeing Caol’s body again. His father’s. The guards’.

“All right. Do you need—”

“I’m fine,” he repeated. It was a mantra he’d repeated his entire life. Because he had to be fine. There was no alternative. Not without Saoirse. But maybe . . . maybe if Selina let him in—no, not tonight.

She waited another moment before curling up on the mattress. Rion glanced back to see her drag the heavy blanket over her shoulders. He might have imagined her burying her face into the very pillow he’d used. Might have sworn he saw her inhale his scent.

But those were likely just dreams too, simply waiting for the opportunity to shift into nightmares.

Chapter Fourteen

With morning, Selina fetched them breakfast. He’d wondered out loud whether it might have been tampered with. She’d rolled her eyes before cramming a muffin down her throat. Rion resisted the impulse to comment about how she ate like a male. He dug into his potatoes instead. Selina snatched his pastry despite complaining hers was too dry.

She watched him, but thankfully didn’t comment about the nightmare. Rion subtly searched for any signs of bruising around her neck and was thankful to find none.

“Any ideas about what we should do until nightfall?”

He shrugged. “Relax, I suppose.”

She feigned shock. “Does Rion of Brónach know the meaning of the word?”

“You caught me reading.”

“That wasn’t reading, that was torture.”

“It’s a small village. It’ll take you ten minutes to see the entire thing.”

She huffed. “Well, I’m going to take a look anyway. It beats being crammed in here all day.”

The rain had stopped, much to Rion’s dismay. He kept his magic reined in and quiet, but just as Selina predicted, no one seemed to recognize him.

A pair of males stumbling from the only tavern didn’t look at them twice. A beggar seated against the wall of a small shop even reached out his hand. Selina handed him a coin. The male didn’t even have the curtsy to wait until they were down the street before he ran into the tavern, waving the coin above his head. He’d be drunk within the hour.

“He’s going to hound you when we get back.”

She shrugged. “If he can drink an entire gold coin’s worth of ale in one sitting, I might pay him double just so I can watch.”

Rion would pay him triple to bathe first.

They explored everything in less than thirty minutes. From a mediocre bakery with, according to Selina, less than average pastries, to a tiny building they called a library. Rion would have thought the librarian dead were it not for his faint snoring.

Not a single soul recognized him. It was a small village, completely cut off from the outside world. A sanctuary where no one called him a demon.

Selina didn’t like it. She complained endlessly, but Rion found himself surveying the area, wondering what it might be like to settle in such a place. Sure, Saoirse would never be able to visit; he’d be found out if she did. But to have people look at him as if he weren’t a monster. To be treated as any normal traveler or Fae was . . . refreshing.

“Why are you smiling?” Selina inquired with a puzzled look on her face.

“No reason.”

“It’s creepy.” She furrowed her brow. “You can’t seriously like this place.”

He shrugged. “It’s quiet.”

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