17. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
The night air cooled as I wound through the temple district, village laughter and smoke fading behind me. My boots tapped the cobblestones, the curve of the World Tree’s silhouette looming in the distance. The hush felt almost holy, cicadas the only soft sound weaving through the air.
I turned the corner, drunken stupor in every step, eyes fixed on the hut waiting for me—warm, safe—and stopped in my tracks.
Damn it all to Karthmor.
Tairngire leaned up against Saorla's favorite oak tree, standing like the ground belonged to him. Arms crossed, shoulders silvered in moonlight. Narrowed eyes locked on me as if he’d been waiting for me all night and was irritated by it.
Well, I guess my wishes hadn't come true after all.
He came back.
The tavern’s warmth drained out of me. “The goddesses mus’ be fucking with me,” My voice slipped, a little slurred, wine still clinging to my tongue.
His head tilted, a flicker of judgment in his gaze. Then, as he stepped closer, surprise cut through. “Are you…intoxicated?”
I scowled. “Maybe. None’ve your busin--business, either.” I stumbled over the words, swaying on my feet.
The breeze carried his scent on it—clean pine and leather. I wanted to drown in it.
Wait…no I didn't. I hated him.
His jaw ticked as he leaned in, nostrils flaring, mouth hardening. “You reek of Aeos Sítheann.”
The name hit me straight in the chest, shattering the last bit of warmth in me.
“Explain yourself,” he said, voice flat as he leaned back against the tree. “Now.”
My anger exploded, sobering me. He had no right to be standing here demanding things. Especially involving them.
“Oh, don’t you dare.” My voice lashed back. “You don't get to stand there acting all…growly, when a Fae god walks Anamcroí in plain sight. You expect me to believe you didn't know?" I scoffed and shook my head.
“Who?” he asked nonchalantly, tilting his head.
I was going to self destruct. I bared my teeth in a half-smile. “Davorin Kesh.”
I stumbled, catching myself on a tree.
His gaze flicked down, annoyed.
Oh, fuck that.
“Why now?” the words tore free, my voice cracking. “Why show up now? After leaving me in the godsdamned woods like—"
“Like you were lying to me?” he cut in, his voice drenched with an infuriating calmness. “Because you were. And I don’t waste time chasing lies.”
So he was still angry about that. I wobbled on my feet and his gaze followed me, hardening. I seethed. “You could’ve at least seen me back like a gentleman.”
“I could have,” he agreed on a shrug, his gaze shifting to the tree I'd just used to steady myself.
Asshole.
“But I'm no gentleman, according to all those legends you've heard about me." His hard eyes met mine, no humor in them. "And besides, if I had, you’d never have learned to…find your own way.” That damned smirk returned. “So. Lesson learned, then?”
I glared, swaying. I fixated on the way his tongue curled around find your own way like he somehow knew that I'd gone back out and killed a creature in the woods. And if he had, he sure as the realms didn’t come to my aid.
But I could admit none of that, so instead I snapped back, “Lesson learned: you’re insufferable. ”
He raised a brow but didn't respond.
I clenched my fists. “Humor me then omniscient forest god, why isn’t Anamcroí burning to the ground, since a Fae is here? They’re not supposed to leave Aeos Sítheann. Everyone apparently knows that. Everyone but me.”
Something dangerous flickered in his eyes, quick and gone again. “Everyone thinks they know.”
“Gods, you’re cryptic,” I spat. I was so tired of his games, so tired of everyone withholding information from me like I was some sort of inviolate unworthy of deeper knowledge.
He exhaled heavily. “Yet you keep asking questions knowing you won’t get the answers you want.”
A shiver slid down my spine at his words.
Not tonight. I wouldn’t stand for this nonsense any longer. I was going to get answers from the bastard. Wine sluiced through my veins, giving me newfound confidence to push him.
“You knew exactly who he was, what he was this entire time. Davorin Kesh. Don’t pretend you don’t. I want to know how."
He gave me a pensive look—new for him, unsettling. Then his mouth curved again. “Careful, Little Seer. Curiosity is a string easily cut.”
I snapped my chin up. “Then fucking cut it, Tairngire. Because I want to know why you’re not raising an alarm that a godsdamned Fae is strutting around the Seventh Realm like he belongs here. I demand answers.”
How very unfortunate it was that he looked so beautiful when he was being cruel.
Aurenya, focus.
He leaned back on the balls of his feet and hummed. “Demand, you say?”
I arched a brow at him. I wouldn’t back down. The bastard simply chuckled.
Chuckled!
“Ohh, Little Seer. If the realms burned every time the Fae broke their rules, there’d be nothing left but cinders.” He shook his head in exasperation and let out a sigh. “You think you want the truth, but you don't.”
I hated the certainty in his eyes. Hated more that my chest thrummed like maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t wrong. There was comfort in ignorance, but I was done being jerked around.
“You think I’ll just nod like some simpering acolyte? Back down like some worshipper? You vanish for moons, and now you’re back, full of half-answers and smirks. Gods, you’re a—”
I paused, trying to resist falling flat on my face. “You’re such a dickhead.”
The cicadas stopped their song…
Then he laughed, breaking the silence. And it wasn't the smug little chuckle I knew. It was a dark sound that grated under my skin. It was soft at first, then rolling—deep, unrestrained, shaking his chest as he tilted his head back to the stars of the Seventh.
I blinked. I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting but it wasn’t that. I didn’t think the Awakener had a heart he could laugh from.
“What—” My words stumbled. “What in the Seven Realms is so funny?”
He wiped at his mouth, grin lingering and broader than I’d seen it yet. It lit his face in a way that felt too intimate. Dangerous. Beautiful.
Ugh, infuriating.
“You,” he managed between fading chuckles, “the little Seer, fearlessly spitting curses like a hedge witch at a god who’s been known to take heads for less. You should hear yourself.”
Heat crawled up my neck, part embarrassment, part fury. “Don’t you dare mock me.”
“I’m not.” His voice was still rough with laughter but honesty brushed his tone. His eyes found mine again. “I’d almost forgotten what real fire looked like. I’ve…missed it.”
Something lodged in my throat at the annunciation of those last two words. I wanted to strike back, but the look on his face froze me. Unreadable, as always. Yet for a moment, it felt different, like he’d let me glimpse the man beneath the mask. A new vulnerability.
Then it was gone. His smirk slid back into place like armor, arms crossing back over his chest. “Your temper’s showing again. Keep it up, and I might even laugh twice in one night.”
I hiccupped, narrowing my eyes as the laughter faded.
I pointed at him haphazardly. “Don’t think you can just laugh your way out of this.
” Hiccup. “You still haven’t told me why the Fae are here.
Why he’s here. Aeos Sítheann was supposed to stay behind its enchanted walls, wasn’t it?
That’s what the stupid book said, anyway.
Unless it lied. Which honestly wouldn’t surprise me at this point. ”
The words slurred out, harder to form by the second.
I hated how much it looked like he was fighting another laugh.
“Don’t—” I jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t you dare laugh again.” Hiccup.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he drawled, pushing his weight from the tree, stepping closer.
My eyes widened as his towering frame got closer. I lifted my chin. “And don’t touch me again.”
The grin vanished and his eyes narrowed. “Something happened tonight. What?”
I was far too intoxicated to worry about the fact that he seemed to always read me like a book, and the wine loosened my tongue. “I had a vision earlier. After touching Davorin.”
His whole frame stilled along with the trees surrounding us. “Come again? You touched him?”
I furrowed my brow, confused by the source of his anger. “He, um…he grabbed my wrist.”
Something dangerous flickered across his face—fast, like a storm cloud cutting the sun. His fist clenched at his side. A muscle ticked once in his jaw, then he muttered something low in a language I didn’t understand.
Yup. He was definitely angry.
I swayed, the wine buzzing in my head. I was getting bolder by the second.
“You shouldn’t—” Another hiccup escaped, and I cursed under my breath.
“You shouldn’t look so angry about it, Tairngire.
Anger is better hidden, you know. Baring it so easily tends to show one’s weaknesses.
” I lowered my voice, impersonating him, then smiled sweetly.
“Someone might argue that your weakness is jealousy, almighty forest lord.”
He lifted his brows, the fury from moments earlier disappearing from his face.
He shook his head, muttering under his breath.
His voice was low and rough, but a hint of amusement glimmered in his gaze.
“A god does not get jealous, Little Seer. For that is a petty human emotion, and therefore, beneath him.”
So arrogant.
I pressed my lips together, but the words slipped through them anyway. “Well, now he knows.”
Tairngire’s head tilted, all humor in his eyes gone once more, like it had never lived there. The ease in which he switched from one mood to another gave me whiplash “Knows what?”
I forced myself to hold his gaze through the world spinning around me. “Who I am. After the vision, I couldn’t hide it. He looked at me like he’d found a puzzle piece he’d been hunting.”