Chapter 20
Twenty
Ididn’t trust Fieran to tell me the truth. But if I cornered him with enough of it, perhaps I could read his reaction.
As I made my way out of the dining hall, he was sitting with the clan, and I could’ve sworn he paused to watch me leave.
I shoved through the gilded doors with a sense of relief to escape into the expanse outside; darkness had fallen, but lights glowed in the trees that grew throughout the foyer and luminescent light fell in streaks with the waterfall, casting enough light to see.
How could I unravel Fieran’s intentions? Anayla seemed kind, but she was loyal to Fieran; I had the feeling that despite the way they mocked each other, the clan’s loyalty to Fieran was deep and unyielding.
I didn’t trust Ander either. But I could steal some of his puzzle pieces, and some of Fieran’s, and maybe eventually I’d gather enough bits of Fieran’s plot.
As I started up those damned stairs, golden silk brushed past me. Nixi glided by, her perfume—sweet vanilla and something faintly floral—curling in her wake.
She floated, each step effortless, her skirts whispering against the stone. I hated how easy she made it look.
The shifters had constructed this place for their height, and everyone was far taller than me. Which meant I felt like a clumsy toddler stumbling up the stairs.
I took one oversized stride, misjudged the height of the next, and promptly barked my shin on the edge.
She glanced back over her shoulder at me, a flash of derision in her eyes. Of course she’d heard me. I tried to jog up the steps, but then, she could probably hear me panting.
Was she seriously heading all the way up to Fieran’s floor?
Of course she was. That way we could go on the entire journey together, as she floated effortlessly and I tried not to die.
At least if I rolled all the way down these damn stairs, whatever Fieran was plotting would be ruined.
The thought cheered me slightly, even if I was out of breath.
She stepped off at the second-to-last landing and strode inside without a backward glance.
So Clan Amber slept just one level away from us. Interesting.
Ander didn’t seem to have any love lost for Fieran, so I hoped he’d be willing to talk to me.
Still, when I reached their arch, I hesitated. I wasn’t excited by the idea of blundering into their common room.
Through the arched doorway, the common room opened in a spill of muted light. Low couches were gathered around small tables, and yellow and orange tapestries warmed the walls. It looked cozy.
Nixi was gone.
I glanced over the landing to see if anyone from Fieran’s clan could see me standing here. But every face down there remained the same dream-like blur. I desperately needed glasses.
I moved as if I were heading toward the next set of stairs, then whirled at the last moment and moved through the archway. As soon as I stepped through it, I breathed in a scent of citrus and smoke, the rooms warmer than the cool staircase.
Ander came down the hallway, impeccable in his dark tunic. His face—handsome in the kind of way that made you forget what you’d meant to say—was drawn tight with focus, until his eyes met mine.
For a heartbeat, surprise flickered there, softening him. Then it was gone, buried beneath that soldier’s composure.
He covered the rest of the hallway in a few strides and then was in the common room with me, closing the door behind him.
I glanced back at the door I’d just come through. The arched door was enormous and elaborately carved, and it was heavier than I expected when I swung it shut.
Now the two of us were alone. The room was expansive, the ceilings high, but I felt too close to Ander, too awkward, even though there were two couches between us.
“Cara, are you all right?” His voice—low and steady—soothed tension I hadn’t realized I was carrying until my furled hands unfolded.
I rested my hands lightly on the back of one of the sofas, feeling the soft, plush fabric under my palms. His worry was so clear, so genuine, that I didn’t know how to meet it. “Probably not. But dinner was lovely.”
“Was it?” His gaze searched my face as if he didn’t believe me. Whatever he saw there seemed to confirm his suspicions. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Here with you? Or here at the Trials?”
“Both.” The corner of his mouth twitched, though it never quite became a smile. He looked at me the way a patient teacher might regard a stubborn student—equal parts exasperation and concern. “Do you think you should be here?”
“I think I don’t have a choice.”
The words hung between us heavily. The bitterness had been too evident in my voice, and Ander’s face tightened.
“Why is that?” There was a dangerous note in his voice.
I struggled with whether or not to say my next words. I hated needing help. But for Tay, I’d do anything. “My brother’s sick.”
Something in Ander’s face softened instantly. The hardness around his eyes eased, and he took a step closer. But it didn’t feel as if he were invading my space. “Sick?”
The concern in his voice shouldn’t have made my throat tighten, but it did.
I nodded, afraid my voice would wobble, before I managed to force out, “Dying.”
He studied me, every trace of his earlier severity gone.
“Tell me,” he said, but it didn’t feel like a command. It felt like a promise.
I tucked a strand of hair back behind my ear and discovered my fingers were shaking. Wonderful. I folded my hands under my arms, hoping he hadn’t noticed. “Fieran promised to make a bargain with the Fae.”
Ander stared at me with so much anger written across his face that I braced myself not to step back. His long, lean muscles corded with tension like a leopard about to spring.
“That. Fucking. Asshole,” he pronounced. His every word was so full of disgust that I felt my shoulders relax, as if I were no longer responsible for carrying the full weight of Fieran alone.
Still. I needed information, and this was my chance. “Why do you say that?”
Ander gave me a disbelieving look. “Do you not think he’s a fucking asshole?”
“No, I agree. But why would you care? We never even spoke before until I sought you out tonight.”
He scoffed. “You could ask Maura why I wouldn’t speak to you in front of Fieran. Or don’t, because she’s besotted with him.”
“Maura’s in love with him?”
“The whole clan is. He brings people under his control; that’s what he does. Of course, he went a bit more blunt-force with you, didn’t he? Holding your brother hostage for you to do what he demands?”
“Hostage,” I echoed, hating that one word. But I needed to keep him talking. “You make it sound like a plot.”
“Isn’t it?” Ander’s gaze softened with sympathy that made every word feel more painfully like a blow. “Let me guess. He’s keeping Tay in that castle of his. You can’t even reach Tay without him, and you certainly can’t save him. But Fieran has promised to be your savior.”
My fingers had tightened on the back of the couch until they sank into the fabric.
Ander’s expression turned grim. “And how would you ever get him back to your village without Fieran’s help?”
The truth of that statement bristled on my skin like nettles.
“Hence why I’m trapped,” I said crisply. I’d created this mess, too. I’d asked Fieran for his help. What choice did I have? “Besides, you know the rules.”
“What rules apply to you?” His voice was quiet but cutting. “Mortals aren’t bound like we are.”
“Has there ever been another mortal…” I couldn’t bring myself to say dragon-marked. It was a secret I’d guarded so long.
“Not that anyone has heard of.” His lips turned down at the corners. “He shouldn’t have brought you here. You need to keep your mark a secret, and you need to go home.”
“Fieran told me I would burn if I went home.”
“I’ve never heard of the curse claiming anyone. And even if it is more than superstition, you are mortal.” He studied me, shaking his head. “Are you sure you’re marked? You’re so…”
“Small? Fragile? Unremarkable?” I turned my back to him, sure he already knew, and unbuttoned the first few buttons of my dress so I could let the neckline fall in the back.
The fabric brushed down the knobs of my spine as I swept up my hair.
I’d barely even seen it myself, glimpsing it with our shadowy hand mirror and our one good mirror as I craned my head.
“I’ve never seen another mark to compare. ”
“You’re marked, all right.” His voice was gruff, regretful. He turned his back to me, raising his shirt. His back was powerful, carved with muscle, his torso lean and taut. His mark was also a dragon etched between his flexing shoulders.
He let his shirt drop as he turned back to me. “I’m sorry you’ve been alone carrying that all these years.”
His sympathy felt like a knife slipping under my ribs, and I wasn’t even sure why it hurt.
“I can’t be the only bastard child of a shifter to have inherited a fragment of their power.
” I yanked my buttons back together as I turned to face him, feeling far too vulnerable and naked for two lousy buttons.
“This has to have happened before. Villagers practically lined up hoping you’d fuck them back in Stonehaven. ”
He winced at my language. “You’re certainly not the only child of a shifter and a mortal, but the magic doesn’t root in…” He trailed off, clearly choosing not to speak whatever slur shifters used for someone like me. “Who’s your father?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” I didn’t want to get into the intricacies of why, and from the way he pursed his lips, he was brewing another question, so I headed him off. “Why does Fieran want me here?”
“I don’t know. But I intend to find out.” He studied me. “And I imagine you’d like to know as well.”
“You hate him.”
He looked at me with so much sympathy, but I didn’t trust Ander any more than I trusted the asshole who’d brought me here.