Chapter 5

"That was… really something," Meera laughed as we made our way back from dinner. Austin's arrival in the shadow realm—the first Hunter dude to show up here—had caused quite the stir. At one point during the meal, I'd half expected his admirers to serve him up on a platter to be feasted upon. "Has Austin always been so charismatic?"

"Yes," I responded instantly, my head filled with memories of all the performances he'd made us sit through over the years at family parties, right from toddlerhood. "Tonight was probably weird for him, and I wish he was staying at Elverston House so we could talk about it, but I doubt he had any trouble with the attention part. He's always handled that really well."

"That must be nice," Meera murmured a little wistfully.

"Right?"

She shot me a slightly bemused look. It was gratifying to know that I was pulling off my confident act so well that Meera hadn't even seen through it, and she was one of my closest friends here.

"Wait up!" Verity called, jogging to catch up with us after lingering in the dining hall to chat to her fan club. That she was running on an uneven cobblestone path in heels only held up by ribbons around her ankles was honestly one of the most impressive things I'd ever seen.

"Thanks," she panted as she caught up to where Meera and I were waiting for her, immediately linking arms with both of us. "My feet are fucking killing me. Hey, your cousin was on fire at dinner tonight, huh?"

"That's Austin," I agreed wryly. I wasn't jealous or anything. Or, at least, I wasn't jealous that he'd been surrounded by eager suitors. Maybe I was a little jealous that he'd literally stumbled into the shadow realm, drunk off his face, and immediately seemed to be right at home here.

"Are you alright?" Verity asked, tugging me up a little where our arms were joined. "Are you limping?"

"No," I replied, maybe a little too quickly. "I mean, I have a blister," I lied.

In reality, my inner thighs were burning from the "walk," I'd taken earlier, and I'd spent all afternoon trying not to hum to myself like a woman who'd just had the best sex of her life and couldn't tell anybody about it.

Not that I couldn't tell Meera and Verity. We were very different people, and we didn't always understand each other, but we supported one another. I doubted that either of them would judge my decision to have a low-key fuck-buddy arrangement.

The problem was that I was judging myself, just a little bit.

Which was stupid. I'd proposed the setup, and the sex was incredible, and Evrin was kind and considerate and attractive, and I liked being in his presence.

That was the problem.

I was just self-aware enough to know what they'd say if I vocalized all those thoughts out loud.

It sounds like you really like him.

Is this a good idea?

Aren't you worried you're going to catch feelings?

I just don't want you to get hurt.

They were all very valid points and I didn't want to hear them.

I would just dive in headfirst with the guy who'd explicitly said he didn't do relationships and hope for the best. It wasn't like I was going to try to change his mind or anything—that would be selfish of me. I just wanted to enjoy his presence for as long as I could have it, knowing I wouldn't be able to keep him.

And if he happened to fall madly in love with me in the process, well, I could definitely work with that.

Verity headed downstairs to bathe when we got home, and I went straight to the kitchen to get the fire going. I suspected there were vents of some kind piped through the house from the kitchen hearth, because the bedrooms were warmer when I got the fire going overnight.

Meera trailed along after me, which I hadn't expected. But maybe she was in the mood for more company than usual. I was happy to help with that.

"How was your walk this morning?" Meera asked as I pulled kindling out of the giant basket in the corner, stacking it in the hearth. "It's so great that you've been going out each day and exploring. So brave. I feel like I've barely been anywhere."

This was probably the point where I'd suggest she accompany me next time if I was actually going on walks and not sneaking to the in-between to have my brains railed out of my skull.

"It looks like you've been spending a lot of time in the garden," I replied instead, focusing a little harder than strictly necessary on nurturing the little flame I was getting going.

"I have been enjoying spending time in the garden." She cleared her throat almost a little sheepishly, though, I couldn't tell what could possibly be embarrassing about pulling weeds. "Was that Shade from the ball at dinner tonight? I keep meaning to ask if you've seen him around yet."

I choked on my own saliva. "I don't think he eats in the dining hall."

"Oh." Meera's face was full of understanding. If my mystery midnight courtyard lover didn't seek me out in the dining hall, it was because he wasn't interested in pursuing something with me. That was how it worked here.

"How are you feeling about that?" Meera asked with about as much tact as she could, considering the question. How are you feeling about banging a Shade at a party and him avoiding you forever?

Oh, totally fine, actually. He hasn't been avoiding me. We just sleep together in secret.

"The experience was a good reminder that I need to get better at separating sex and romance," I told her, which was the honest truth. "I really admire Verity's ability to just… have fun, then move on with her life. No strings attached. Especially here, where sex is intrinsically linked to feeding for a Shade. There's a biological need there that goes beyond just pleasure and, you know, reproduction or whatever. I can't fall in love with every hungry Shade who manages to seduce me," I added with an unconvincing laugh.

"Right," Meera agreed tentatively, perching on the wide edge of the hearth. "There's something to be said about that, but you're also not Verity. It's okay if you don't respond to things the same way as she does."

"No, I know," I mumbled, pumping the bellows to get the fire going.

I'd overheard it said around court that Meera was shy and lacked confidence, but the more time I spent with her, the less true that felt. I was the one trying desperately to fit in. It sure seemed like it took a lot more confidence to unapologetically move at your own pace.

"Well, forget that guy. He clearly doesn't deserve you if he's not making an effort to see you—that's the bare minimum." She didn't mean for words to hit me like a blow to the chest, of course. And in his own way, Evrin did make an effort to see me, but it was just in an extremely secretive way that made me feel vaguely ashamed of myself.

"Maybe someone else will catch your eye?" Meera suggested mildly.

"Maybe," I replied on a heavy exhale, though I knew there was no possibility of that happening while Evrin and I were doing what we were doing.

As much as I wanted to read less into sexual intimacy, I wasn't someone who felt romantic attraction easily. And when I did, I was entirely fixated on that person until it had run its course.

It was like I was cursed with Stage Five Clinginess, but only one percent of the time. Silver linings and whatnot.

"What about you? Anyone getting your motor running?" I asked Meera, hoping to move some of the scrutiny off me.

Meera shook her head, blushing faintly. I supposed Verner hadn't technically been at dinner—he'd been standing guard outside. Since that day he'd helped me make an escape from dinner, I'd spotted him hanging around almost constantly, but it definitely wasn't for my benefit.

"I might head up to bed," Meera said on a yawn, helping herself to a cup of water. "Are you okay down here?"

"Sure. I'll go up shortly. Goodnight."

She squeezed my shoulder lightly on the way past, leaving me alone as I fed logs into the flames, and my mind headed to the bad place.

If I was in the human realm, I'd be sending a "you up?" message right now.

But I wasn't, so I got the fire roaring and snuck out of the house instead. The charcoal gray sky churned restlessly above, and there was something soothing about how different it looked from the sky at home. I wasn't in Kansas—or Idaho Springs—anymore, but I was making a life for myself here, and that life was full of possibility.

The grounds surrounding the palace were always lit up like a stadium so that no one could shadow walk into the place without the Guard noticing, but even with the megawatt orbs of silvery lights, I knew it probably wasn't the safest option to traverse the gardens at night.

It was especially idiotic to head toward the barracks on my own when Evrin was trying to keep me a secret.

But I just…

I needed him. Not even for sex—though that would be nice, too. I needed his calm, steady presence. I needed him to wrap me up in those big strong arms and tell me everything would be okay. And objectively, I didn't need that. I was fine on my own, I knew if I'd just stayed in my room and waited out this incessant, itching need to feel his skin on mine and his voice in my ear that I'd make it through. But I didn't want to fight it. I wanted to cherish it.

I hovered outside the entry room, having a vague idea of when Evrin finished his insanely long shifts in the in-between. It wasn't the regular rotation that the other guards did, which meant there was no foot traffic going past, at least. I had no excuses at the ready for what I could possibly be doing here. I was really just relying on no one seeing me.

The moment Evrin came out of the entry room, his head swung in my direction, nostrils flaring. It was incredibly gratifying.

"Are you okay? What are you doing here?" he asked, keeping his voice low as he strode toward me, gently gripping my upper arms and rubbing them with his thumbs.

I opened my mouth before closing it again, lost for words in a way that I rarely was.

"Perhaps you were lonely?" Evrin hedged, tilting his head to the side.

"Yeah," I croaked, something settling into place at the recognition of what I'd been feeling. "I think I was. Which is so stupid, because I was just with Meera five minutes ago, and I don't really have any reason to feel this way."

Evrin pulled me into his chest, his enormous arms wrapping tightly around my shoulders as he squeezed the tension right out of me.

We stayed there for a long moment, my brain so blissfully silent that I was able to just enjoy the quiet nighttime breeze and the occasional rustle of fabric where my dress rubbed against Evrin's skin.

And then he made a noise that made us both jump. It started where my ear was pressed to his chest, and seemed to rumble up his body, and it wasn't a sound I'd ever heard him make before.

It was almost like a… purr.

"What was that?" I asked, leaning back to look up at Evrin's face, my arms still loosely wrapped around his waist.

"I have no idea. I've never made that sound before."

"I liked it," I told Evrin, patting his waist, because he seemed kind of self-conscious about it. "It was very soothing."

"I'm glad. Are you feeling better now?"

"Much. Are you okay? I hope I didn't interrupt your plans—" I said, suddenly realizing that I'd just imposed on him without warning.

"Not at all," Evrin interjected. "I was just going to grab some food and sleep. I'll walk you back to Elverston House first, though." A little bubble of hope swelled in my chest. "There shouldn't be anyone around this late, but I'll walk ahead if there is."

Never mind.

Don't get your hopes,I chided internally. Don't catch feelings. Just relax.

"How was your shift?" I asked as we made our way back through the garden. "Anything exciting happen?"

"No, thankfully." He looked over at me, and I could have sworn I saw the moment that he realized he wasn't giving me a lot of conversation to work with. "It's always quiet, especially with the human-realm portals now quiet. It"s just Shades passing through on their way somewhere else. Most Shades struggle with the oppressiveness of it for long stretches of time, so the only member of the Guard actively monitoring it is me." He shrugged.

"Well, then, I'm definitely glad it was quiet if you don't have any backup," I replied worriedly.

"Even if something happens, I'm more than capable of handling myself." His voice was filled with so much confidence that I couldn't help but believe him.

"I hope so. Don't you get injured on me," I teased, though I wasn't really teasing, and it wasn't really what I wanted to say. Or at least not all I wanted to say.

"I won't," Evrin promised.

And that had to be enough.