Page 114 of Threadbound

“I—does it matter?”

“To thegealach marcaiche? I dinna think so,” Bran replied, sounding amused. “But if she has bairns, you willna be surprised.”

Jamie blinked. “Oh. Right. Is she going to?”

“Not as far as I can tell.” Bran’s green eyes were bright. “But I dinna exactly lookthatclosely.”

Jamie felt his cheeks warm again, which only made him more self-conscious. He felt like his face was permanently hot around Bran. He took another bite of his fish to distract himself. “But she’s okay?”

“Aye,” came the response. “She misses you, though.”

“I miss her,” Jamie admitted. He didn’t say that he missed Bran, although he had, even though he and the fae hadn’t really been getting along terribly well—on each other’s nerves, on edge.

So when Bran said it, it completely threw him. “I missed you, too.”

Jamie stared at him, a chunk of potato held between his fingers, his lips opened, just about to bite into the chip. His brain short-circuited. He had no idea what to say. Of course he’d also missed Bran, but he’d missed the Bran he’d gotten to know here, in Edinburgh. The Bran whose body he’d explored, not the short-tempered, agitated Bran who’d come after that.

“You did?” he finally managed, putting his chip down.

The fae sighed, staring into the tan hues of his own dinner. “Aye,” he said softly. “I—I’m sorry I was such an arse.”

“You… were?” Jamie’s face obligingly flushed red again. “Not—I mean. Not that you’re sorry. I didn’t—Shit.”

By the time Jamie had finished that eloquent speech, Bran was looking up at him, his expression an odd mix of confusionand something that might have been mirth. “I, uh, dinna quite follow?” was all he said.

Jamie swore that his cheeks must have been purple they were so hot. “I didn’t think you were being an… arse.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say ‘ass.’ He knew it was the same word, but somehow ‘ass’ felt much ruder.

Bran tilted his head to the side, the same way he did when he was in bird-form, studying Jamie. “I dinna act like much of a friend,” he replied, his voice low and even. “I left you on your own. I dinna explain much of anything… I was an arse.”

“Oh. Um. You were sick.”

“I dinna become any less of an arse after the threadbinding, either,” the fae replied. “If anything, the opposite.” He sighed, pulling apart a piece of fish. “I dinna know what to do, so I dinna do anything. And then when you were unhappy, I only made it worse.”

“Oh. Um. Sorry?”

“Dinna apologize,” Bran told him, a frown making his expression a little severe. “It wasna your fault. I couldha been kinder. More patient.”

“I could have been?—”

The fae sighed loudly enough that Jamie stopped talking. “Jamie Weaver, you did everything right,” he said, sounding exasperated. “You are kind, generous, and beyond tolerant. I dragged you to a strange place and made you adapt to new people—a newworld. And you did.” Bran pushed aside his plate, then leaned forward, elbows on his knees, sharp emerald eyes focused on Jamie’s features. “I dinna know what to do with—everything. So I did what I always do and ran away from it.”

“Ran away from what?” Now Jamie was really confused.

“You,” the fae answered. “Us.”

“Us?”

“Aye,us.” The second word was said emphatically. “Because I dinna know what to do with the strange feeling in my chest. So I tried to force it away.”

Jamie didn’t know what to do with any of this. His stomach was tying itself into knots that had nothing to do with the fish or the chips, although it was probably made worse by the fact that he hadn’t eaten anything else that day. His heart pounded in his chest, and it felt like he could barely breathe. “Why?” he asked, forcing his voice out past the lump in his throat and the tightness in his lungs.

“Because I was afraid of what it meant,” Bran answered, and his voice sounded sad.

“Why?” Jamie asked again. Because if Bran was saying what Jamie thought he was saying, Jamie didn’t understand why that had to be a bad thing. Was it because Jamie was human? Did fae not have relationships with humans? Did Bran not like humans? A few hours ago, Jamie would have said that Bran probably wasn’t all that fond of humans, but that he tolerated Jamie. Now… Maybe he did tolerate Jamie, but was also embarrassed by him?

“Because I’m a bloody fool,” came the fae’s rather vehement response.

Jamie gaped at him.

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