Page 78 of Unlikely Omega

He’s silent for a few beats. “Are you thinking he approached us because he smelled you?”

“Don’t you think it’s possible?”

I straighten and turn around, pulling my hair back from my face. The strands have escaped their leather tie and stick to my cheeks. It’s irritating and I scrape them back.

“Your ears…” Taj whispers and I go very still. “I never noticed them before. Your hair is always covering them.”

“That’s the whole point,” I mutter, annoyed, “and don’t you dare make a pun out of it. I thought you of all people would understand.”

“No, yeah, I just…” He shifts on the floor, metal scraping on rock. “They… suit you.”

Cautiously, I tilt my head to the side, waiting to see where he’s going with that.

“And with your coloring… you might have winter court roots.”

“You know about the Fae courts?” Ariadne asks before I can formulate a response of any kind. “I didn’t think they were common knowledge.”

He grunts. “We had a lieutenant with Fae blood, long ago, when I was still a boy scrubbing blood off the soldiers’ armor and polishing their helmets. His name was Fiedor and he had your coloring. A great man. Always focused on his duty, on self-discipline and improvement. I admit I watched him from afar, aspiring one day to be like him, and he was kind to a dumb kid like me. He allowed me to watch as he trained. Once he told me… told me to be careful in the army because people aren’t what they seem.”

“What did he mean?” Ariadne asks.

“That people hate whoever isn’t just like them,” I whisper. “That given a chance, they’ll kick you in the teeth and leave you for the wolves to devour.”

“But—” she starts to object.

“That’s right,” Taj says. “He was cautioning me. I didn’t want to believe it.”

“You still don’t,” I say.

“What happened to him?” Ariadne whispers.

“He was killed.” Taj shifts again and I try to picture his muscular body, long legs stretched out in those tall boots stuffed with knives and the gods know what else. I try to ignore my body’s reaction to both of them. A pity I only see outlines when I sense danger and battle, or when I’m taken by surprise.

“How?” I manage.

“An accident, it was said.” He pauses. “I believed it then. Not sure anymore.”

“Ah.”

“He did look a lot like you,” Taj mutters.

“That was my uncle,” I say. “I carry his name. Finnen Fiedor Denagan.”

“So you’re a Denagan. How did they let you in the Temple?”

I shrug. “I gave my mother’s maiden name instead.”

“Is that name supposed to mean something?” Ariadne asks. “Denagan?”

“A line of warriors going back to the Fae wars,” Taj says. “They sided with the Fae.”

“What? Why?”

“Because they were more Fae than humans. Right, Finn?”

“It’s Finnen Fiedor to you,” I say coolly. “And again, you’re one to talk, Black Cub. Your family obviously had as many dalliances with the Fae as mine.”

“We didn’t betray humanity.”

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