Page 69 of Threadbound

“Oh. Um. Yeah. I like cotton or linen better than polyester. It just feels itchy.” Jamie shrugged, then moved to toss the clothes on his bed. “Are you…” He paused, chewing on his lower lip. “Are you okay?” he asked, then.

“I’m doing better,” Bran answered.

“Better thandyingisn’t necessarily good,” Jamie pointed out, although he immediately felt stupid the minute the comment was out of his mouth.

“No,” Bran agreed. “It isna.”

“Can I help?” Jamie wanted to know.

The expression on Bran’s face looked like it was trying to be a smile, but it was also pained. “You have been,” he answered.

Jamie sighed. “Why didn’t you just… come in before?”

“You dinna invite me,” came the reply.

“I did when you were sick, though,” Jamie replied. “Doesn’t that count?”

“Count as what?” Bran asked.

“An invitation?”

“Does anyone you’ve invited in just come back anytime they like?” Bran wanted to know.

“Well, no, but…”

“But?”

“They’re human,” Jamie blurted, his cheeks heating.

“And you think that because I’m fae that means I dinna abide by the rules of hospitality?”

Jamie couldn’t tell if Bran was offended or amused. “No, I just—Well, I don’tknowthe rules. Your rules, anyway.” He could feel his cheeks getting hotter. “My momma always said that if you invited a fairy in, then the invitation was forever.”

Bran studied the half-breed, uncertain whether he should be offended by Jamie’s bumbling attempt to understand him or touched that he was trying to do so. He was also intrigued by the fact that Jamie’s mother knewsomethingabout the rules that governed the fae, she didn’t know enough to call them what they called themselves. He’d start there.

“Fae,” he said, trying to make his voice gentle rather than accusatory. “Notfairy.”

“Oh. Um. Sorry.” Jamie’s cheeks were turning an even darker shade of pink.

“Or Sluagh, if you prefer. Although that doesna apply to all of us.”

“Fae, then,” Jamie corrected himself. “So an invitation isn’t permanent?”

Bran couldn’t help the predatory smile that pulled at his lips, although having lips felt rather odd after so many weeks in raven form. “Oh, it is,” he confirmed. “But that doesna make it polite to take advantage of it.”

Jamie stared at him for moment, clearly having no idea what to say to that. And then his stomach growled loudly, which turned Bran’s attention to the incredible smells that filled the half-breed’s apartment, and he licked his lips, but then immediately regretted giving away his own vulnerability.

“Are you hungry?” Jamie asked, the flush on his cheeks having descended to partly cover his neck, one hand on his stomach as though he could subdue it into silence.

“Aye,” Bran answered truthfully. He wasn’t literally starving, thanks to Jamie, but he was hungry, and it had become painfully clear as he looked at his naked human form in Jamie’s foggy mirror that he’d lost even more weight—and he didn’t really have it to lose.

“Well, diner’s ready,” Jamie told him. “Do you want me to bring you some, or…”

The apartment wasn’t large, and Bran’s hands were more than steady enough to carry a plate of food. “I can get my own,” he replied. “Although I appreciate the offer.”

Jamie nodded, then crossed the room to the kitchenette, presumably expecting Bran to follow, which he did. Jamie handed him a plate, and Bran served himself several scoops of the creamy pasta dish, a roasted apple, and two of the lumpy biscuits. He eyed the spice cakes, but they were set off to theside, so he assumed he wasn’t supposed to eat one of those yet. He’d learned from his sushi dinner with Jamie that humans ate sweet foods after they finished the rest of their meal. It struck him as odd, but he was eating with Jamie, so he would follow the human customs.

He took his plate back across the room and paused, not certain where to sit.

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