Chapter 48

Evie

" I can't do it," Evie whispered, staring at the cellar door.

The boss stood on one side of her, Tatianna on the other, smiling, hand clasping hers. Warmth seeped through the touch, like the healer was sending her magic to every broken piece of Evie's heart. "Come now, little friend. You've done far harder things than this."

Evie wanted to argue, but Tatianna always tended to speak in hard resolutions, like her beliefs were facts and not subject to argument, and, annoyingly enough, the healer was usually right.

Evie and the boss had ridden back to the manor in discomfiting quiet, both avoiding the giant in the room like their lives depended on it. They'd left Malcolm to continue his residence in her home after he'd declined the offer to join them at the manor.

"Probably for the best that I stay here. Tryst and I tend to brawl when we're in too close quarters."

"The manor is huge," she'd argued.

"Not huge enough," the boss had grumbled.

So, they returned alone, and all the heated wanting that had made the room thick with tension had dissipated into something frigid and confusing. They'd both agreed to retire to bed and begin questioning her father in the morning, and Evie had been certain that come sunup the subject of their kiss would reemerge with a vengeance. But he hadn't sought her out, hadn't brought it up again, just avoided eye contact and oddly pressed the back of his hand to his lips every so often. Like they stung.

Now that the workday was well underway, things had seemed to just revert to normal, and she decided it was likely best for the both of them if she just stopped thinking about him at all.

The only problem being that she was still thinking of him—and in a way that would likely send him and his proper manners into heart failure.

She returned her gaze to the door before her, the marks in the wood taunting her as she tried to focus on the task at hand. It was foolish of her to think she could've avoided this forever, avoided speaking to her father again. It had been foolish to think she might instead just move on with her life with the dignity he'd attempted to steal from her. But there were some things that couldn't be buried, and the search could not continue without him. It had to happen today, and it had to be her.

The boss whispered in her ear, "At what risk would my vulnerable areas be if I offered to do this in your stead?"

"That depends." She did not turn to look at him, but she felt the heat radiating off his body, smelled the clean scent of his shirt, freshly laundered. She wanted to bury her nose in it. "Which vulnerable areas are we speaking of?"

He bent low, cupping a hand over his mouth like he was going to say something scandalous, but the delivery was flat and dry. "My ear."

Oh no. A laugh burst out of her, fast and loud. The sound echoed down the empty corridor. The only ones to hear were Tatianna, The Villain, and now Blade, who was rounding the corner with a jovial expression.

"The female guvre's gestation is moving along nicely, everyone, and by the looks of her abdomen, I'd say there's at least a month before we have a baby. The male also seems to be nesting"—Blade's expression turned indulgent as he smiled—"if the amount of scales and leaves piled up around the cage is anything to go by." Blade's lemon-yellow vest shimmered with red embroidered roses, his color scheme matching the daylight. He halted and frowned. "Did I miss a joke?"

Tati leaned against the wall, one of her gauzy pink sleeves rising as she lifted her forearm. "The boss made one."

Blade pretended to faint.

"Can you leave?" The Villain bit out before looking back to Evie, checking for cracks in her joy, waiting for her sadness to return.

But she felt lighter with her friends here. "I will be going. Alone." She said it pointedly to the room as a whole, reaching to lift the latch of the door, but her fingers stopped over the handle.

Do it , she urged herself.

But she stayed in place, arms locked, fear coursing through her at the possibility of losing any of the softness she had left. She didn't want to be hardened by her experiences—she wanted to defy them by remaining just as she was. Kind, gentle, forgiving. How could there be a way forward? How could she do this without losing those parts?

Two interns passed by the dungeon door, snickering at her.

A bold move in front of the boss—however, it was not Trystan who called out to them but Rebecka Erring, who had appeared around the other corner, running directly into them.

Her tight bun pulled her features back into a severe expression, as usual, but it was strange how comforted Evie felt to see it.

Becky turned to the interns and said, "I was hoping to run into you two; you're on muck-out duty for the dragon today. Mr. Gushiken's got his hands full with the guvres, and Fluffy's cleanliness is of the utmost importance."

Both interns began sputtering. "Ms. Erring, we cannot possibly take on a task that large," one of them complained. "That animal is a mess."

Becky rolled her eyes as she leaned toward them and mock whispered, "Then I suggest you get started."

"But—"

"She gave you a command," Blade said, an uncharacteristic hardness in his tone and expression. "I suggest you follow it."

They scattered. Becky's lips pulled slightly up in Blade's direction, and an answering smile was aimed back at her.

Evie had to force her mouth closed, but Tatianna had the same giddy expression beside her. There was nothing quite so hope-inducing as a budding romance.

Becky's heels clicked against the stone floor as she walked toward Evie, resolve in her expression. "Do you remember what I said to you on your first day?"

Evie searched her mind, trying to remember, but she was flummoxed, not used to this direct address with no sarcastic insult included. The only thing she came up with was, "I think you said, ‘You're going to fail'?"

Becky's eyes shined. "But you didn't."

And Evie was certain in that moment that Becky saw right through her pasted-on smiles, right through to the core of her, and Becky didn't turn away. Right now, for Evie, it was safe to just be.

Becky nodded toward the door and smiled at her—a real one, for maybe the first time. "You won't fail at this, either. I promise you can do this."

Evie gripped the handle and turned, opening the door.

You can.

So she did.