Chapter Eight
“What a dump.”
My eyes fluttered open, and I immediately winced at the bright light filling the room. My mouth felt like it was full of cotton, and a wicked headache pulsed in my temples.
“It is not a dump,” Caom muttered from somewhere outside. “This was Briordan and Eowan’s place. It’s just been left for years. I’ll help Ash clean it.”
Idony huffed. “He’s not going to fuck you, you know.”
“I know,” Caom snapped. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be nice to him, does it?”
There was silence.
“Why would you be nice to him? He’s one ofthem. I know he’s going to—”
“You don’t have to be a cow to everyone, Idony.” I jumped when there was a sharp rap on the door. “Ash? Are you up? We brought breakfast.”
I struggled out of bed, clawing back my tangled hair and wobbling from the headrush.
Another knock. “Ash?”
“I’m coming,” I rasped, voice like gravel.
I heard Caom groan faintly. “Of course he has to sound like that in the mornings.”
“Like what?” Idony asked.
“Like he’s spent all night fucki—Good morning!”
The blond fae beamed at me when I opened the door. He was standing beside a scowling Idony, who flicked her gaze disdainfully over my frame.
“I thought you gave him proper clothes.”
“He did. I just woke up.” I scrubbed a hand over my face and stepped back, letting them in.
“Are you settling in?” I could tell Caom was trying very hard to keep his eyes off my bare torso. “Did you sleep alright? Did you eat—Ah.” He chuckled. “I see you enjoyed the wine. Good choice.”
“Regretting it now,” I muttered, moving past them to go and get some water in the kitchen.
“Well, honey cakes will help you feel better.” Caom followed me in with a basket and set it on the small table. “And fruit.”
“Do you have any eggs? Or bacon?”
He wrinkled his nose. “No. But the Carlin plans on throwing a celebration for you in the village soon. Plenty of meat there. Of all kinds.”
I rolled my eyes, wincing when it made my head feel like I was driving an ice pick through it.
Caom chuckled and tutted. “Soft mortal constitution. When you shed your mortal skin, you will be able to handlefarmore wine.”
I ignored the ‘shedding mortal skin’ bit, too hungover to deal with that. I dragged my feet over to the table with my cup of water, gingerly sitting down.
Caom watched me, fiddling with the edge of the cloth covering the basket. “Are you going to be sick?”
I let out a shaky breath and clasped my hands round my cup, staring at it. “Maybe.”
“Ugh.” Idony stomped into the tiny kitchen, peering around with a wrinkled nose. “What wine did he give you? My sister’s is the best. The rest is swill. I’ll bring you some.”
My mouth filled with saliva. I weakly shook my head. “I don’t need more.”