Page 55 of Across an Endless Sea

“This must be what happens when she heals you without being able to connect to Danu. She knew. She must have known…” She curses again. “Stupid fucking fairy. Always sacrificing herself. Diving in front of my sword, not speaking…”

Tuning her rant out, I glance around the room, making sure it’s empty, before I reach for the bangle on Rose’s wrist.

I’ve done this before. Only, last time, it was because I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing her tattered wings and feeling guilty. Prae objected then, but she keeps her mouth shut as I slip it away this time. Out of guilt, perhaps?

I’m probably reading too much into her silence.

The second the strip of metal is away from her, Rose’s brows furrow and she turns, burrowing into my chest.

Ancestors, preserve me.

Prae’s eyebrows rise—and I have to shift to hide the fact that they’re not the only thing—but she doesn’t say anything. Not here.

Too many ears. Too many eyes.

Something which I completely forgot when I dragged Rose into my lap. Shit.

Something in my gut twists, but I ignore it as I stand, letting her drop to the floor without care. She doesn’t wake, but Prae gives me another look, this one filled with judgement.

What?I silently demand.

She huffs, which is Prae for ‘nothing.’

Except it’s never ‘nothing’ when a female says that.

Rose’s breathing slowly transitions from shallow to deep and even. What few holes remained in her wings seal up, and something in me relaxes at the sight.

When she finally starts to stir, I quickly work the bangle back over her hand and onto her wrist. The effect is instantaneous, like someone has stolen away the shine that makes her fae. The gloss fades from her hair, and the sallowness returns to her cheeks.

It’s necessary. She’s still the enemy. No matter what my fucking instincts keep telling me.

An enemy who’s still not waking up. Damn it.

For a brief second, I consider stripping my armbands off and carrying her, only to recoil. What the fuck is wrong with me? No Fomorian voluntarily takes off their badges of honour. I worked hard for them, nearly died for more than one—not that I can die, but the pain was still intense.

Then Rose’s purple eyes blink open, and all the tension melts out of my shoulders.

“Come on,” I say, almost offering my hand to help her up, then grimacing when I realise that holding hands is what did this to her.

Instead, I turn on my heel, collect my glove and stalk towards Prae’s forge, ignoring the two females at my back.

* * *

Rhoswyn

Caed is colder than usual as he stomps back through the fortress like an angry boar.

A thank you might’ve been nice, I think angrily at his broad—and completely healed—back.

He couldn’t even be assed to help me up from the floor, which stings. Next time I have to put myself in danger to heal him, I’m going to refuse on principle.

Prae shoots me a sympathetic and slightly exasperated look, but peels away as soon as we reach her workshop, heading to the forge with a muttered curse.

“You owe me for this,” she says over her shoulder to Caed. “Big. I’m talking at least a third of your treasure.”

“Treasure?” The word is out before I can stop it, but in my defence, I’m surprised.

I’ve not seen any indication that the Fomorians care much for treasure. The Fortress and the town beyond are bastions of practicality, with little of the gilded opulence I’d expect from a society that values money or gold.

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