Page 105 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
“You can’t ask me to endure the horror of losing my soul again, Shorty.”
I choked back my sorrow for him as I folded suddenly shivering arms over my chest. “That’s not fair, Pete. You know that’s not what I—”
“But thatiswhat you’re asking of me, whether you wish to see it that way or not.”
“Butyou’reasking the same of me! You’re asking me to take your place. To sleep in a cage, to fight like a dog. To be subservient to the man whomurderedmy father. You’re dragging me to a place that sounds worse than hell. And I donotdeserve it.”
Pete met my eyes in the night, his ringed with silver. Sad. But not sorry. “I know.”
Nineteen
Anewtethertuggedon my ankle when I awoke the next morning to the smell of fired meat and a pot of rosenut coffee. Ten times the thickness of my last, it fettered me to the shirtless man by the fire.
Glowering, I sat up. “Really?”
Pete’s mouth wriggled into a smile. He stoked the campfire’s coals with a stick, his hair mussed from sleep. “Really.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “Someone’ssore that I escaped him yesterday.”
“I’m not sore about that, truthfully.” He took a seat in the moss and turned the spit over the fire, where two freshly skinned squirrels roasted in the morning mist. The wound I’d bandaged with clean leaves and a freshly scrubbed shred of my underskirt seemed less bothersome than it was last night. “Can’t fault you for doing something I’d have done myself. And while it was sporting good fun dogging your trail through the woods—you should really learn to cover your tracks, Shorty—I think I’ll do without a chase today.” He sighed, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m a mite sluggish after getting my arse battered last night.”
I ignored my guilt. “I’ll just burn it off, you know.”
“Thought you might.” His eyes twinkling, he jostled the tether connecting us. Fuming tendrils of vibrant green shot through its shadowy fibers. “That’s why I’ve reinforced this one with ossified emerald—which won’t take a flame if you were curious. I rooted the strands up just for you, Shorty.”
I knew I was giving him the sour puss face Aunt Aylie had tried swatting out of me and didn’t give a crap.
My churlishness only delighted him further. He seemed to pride himself in outsmarting me, like I was a video game boss he’d been trying to beat for ages.
“Gentian provides us harbingers flame nullifiers for fae such as yourself. Although, I’ve never had to use one before. Fire sylphen were to have gone extinct centuries ago.” He arched a brow. “You’re an anomaly, Shorty.”
Dude, what else is new?
“At least now we ken what the Shadow Prince wants with you.”
“How could he know I’m a fire sylph? I didn’t even know until just before I went through the portal.”
Pete shrugged, turning the spit again, patting Sionna’s head when she tramped over to him—something furry, fuchsia, and squirming in her jowly mouth. “Perhaps the harbinger who found your father told him.”
I winced in remembrance of the hideous night my father died. “The one that must’ve done that—it didn’t see my magic.”
Pete stilled, his gaze narrowing. “Theone? How many harbingers were sent after your father?”
“Not sure. At least five that I know of. There were definitely more.”
His gaze rounded like an owl’s.
“Bogeybats,” I explained.
“Christ. What the hell did your father do to Gentian?”
I scowled at the flames. “He existed.”
And married my mother.
His bafflement slow to fade, Pete shook his head and took the critter Sionna had hunted. With a brittle crack, he broke its tiny neck and unsheathed hisscianto gut its flopping corpse for her. She laid down beside him, watching him work.
I watched too, cringing. Yes, we all needed to eat, but I was still too bougie to accept how the sausage was made.
