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Chapter Six

Ash

I wish I knew why I woke up every morning before dawn expecting to feel warm lips trailing over my skin. A low, husky voice murmuring sweet words into my ear. Long, callused fingers smoothing over my chest or arm.

I hadn’t had sex with anyone in months and months, since well before I’d been taken by the Carlin. I hadn’t slept an entire night with someone in even longer than that, so why was my brain now yearning for it? I had more important things to think about, for fuck’s sake.

I yawned widely as I propped myself up on my one elbow on my pallet of furs in Nua and Gillie’s living room. My left arm automatically jerked with the desire to push my curly hair back from my face, but of course there was no hand there to do it. I was beginning to come to terms with that. Slowly getting used to it.

“Morning, lad.”

Gillie’s rough, cheerful voice made me look up and give him a small smile. I was gradually relaxing around them, growing to trust them. I’d been here just under two weeks and they’d been nothing but kind. Friendly. Helpful.

But I knew a part of me was too damaged to ever fully trust anyone again. I kept my dagger under my pillow every night, and in its sheath on my hip every day. I watched them. I still stiffened if one of them moved too fast, expecting them to fly across the room towards me with sharp teeth flashing. I was still careful with my words, and listened closely to theirs.

“Scrambled or boiled eggs for breakfast?” Gillie asked, yawning and scratching his stomach. When Nua appeared from the curtained off doorway that led to their bedroom, Gillie pulled him close and kissed his temple.

“I don’t mind,” I said, my voice scratchy from sleep, sitting up fully so I could absently rub the tender skin of my stump. “Whatever you both want.”

“I think boiled, as they’re so fresh. Runny yolks,” Gillie said cheerfully. He kissed Nua again and released him to go into the kitchen. “Oh, and I got some coffee for you, Ash.”

My mouth watered. Gillie had set off yesterday morning in a long brown coat and wide-brimmed hat, with two empty canvas bags, to go to a market for solitary Folk that was hidden somewhere deep in the woods.

He’d returned slightly drunk with both bags full, saying he’d stopped by Odran’s lake for a few drinks with the kelpie before returning home. He’d laughed when Nua had tutted and taken the bags from him, giving him a big smacking kiss on the cheek.

I could reluctantly admit to myself that I liked Nua and Gillie. Really liked them. They were deeply in love, devoted to each other, and both just… nice. I hadn’t been around anyone truly nice in so long. Gillie was cheerful and a bit wild and didn’t seem to take much seriously. Nua was quieter, and I knew he was still worrying about me, but he was soft-spoken and gentle.

They were both gentle with me, like I was a skittish animal seconds away from bolting. And I still kind of was, even though I had gradually relaxed here. The hot, murderous anger towards the Carlin and her sons still burned in my gut. Fuelled me to get up every day and practise fighting one-handed with my dagger. Nua gave me lessons, which helped me to trust him just a little more.

My stump had healed shockingly fast. Unnervingly fast. The scar tissue was still tender and pale, and I still got stabbing pains up what remained of my arm and thought I could feel the phantom flex of my fingers, but the searing agony had faded. I didn’t know if it was Gillie’s salve or my fae body, or both, that had caused it to heal so quickly, but I wasn’t complaining.

They both went into the kitchen to leave me alone to get dressed for the day. Nua had given me some soft, loose linen trousers to sleep in. I was sure they were Nua’s clothes that I was wearing. We were about the same build, whereas Gillie was broader.

I pulled on my brown leather trousers, socks and boots before standing up. Gillie had relaced the trousers so I could pull them tight with one hand before looping the end around and tucking it in. He’d given me a pair of boots that didn’t need lacing up, which I was more grateful for than I’d let on. I hadn’t thanked him for them—I didn’t trust them enough for that—but I had told him that I appreciated it.

Nua had given me loose collarless shirts that slipped on over my head and didn’t require buttoning. He’d carefully folded and pinned the left sleeves of all of them for me, so the empty fabric didn’t flap around while I moved.

I was ashamed of how rude and churlish I’d been to them when I’d first gotten here. I’d quietly apologised for it one night while we were eating dinner, and they’d both brushed it off easily, saying that they understood.

I’d gone to bed that night and cried silently, praying they wouldn’t hear. I’d finally let myself cry for my missing arm. Cry for my dead parents. Cry for how pathetically grateful I was for such small kindnesses from these two Folk, after being alone and scared for so long.

And it felt like I’d cried for more. For something I’d lost—something other than my mortal life and my home and my parents—but I didn’t know what.

I stood up to lace my trousers, then reached back to pull my hair free from under the shirt neck. My fingers brushed against a warm metal chain there, making me freeze. I followed it round to my throat, grasping the small pendant on the necklace. I peered down as I pulled it away from me until I could just about see a tiny black feather. I stared at it, wondering why I was wearing it, even as something pinged in my consciousness, telling me that I had done the same thing the day before. And the day before that.

Despite not knowing where I’d gotten it or what it was, I left it on, making my way into the kitchen to join Nua and Gillie for breakfast. Gillie was fishing boiled eggs out of the cauldron with a slotted wooden spoon and setting them on a linen cloth on the butcher’s block.

I let out a little snuffle of laughter at just how many he was lining up on the fabric. “How can you eat so much?”

He grinned back at me over his shoulder, sharp teeth flashing. “I’m a growing boy.”

Nua snorted as he toasted bread over the fire, the slices impaled on prongs at the end of a long metal pole. “You finished growing about three hundred years ago.”

“I need plenty of energy to keep up withyou, my eager seelie.”

I cringed and made my way to the table, where three steaming mugs were already waiting and the godly scent of coffee was drifting over. “I donotneed to hear what you and my brother get up to, Gillie.”

As soon as the words escaped, I realised what I’d said—what I had finally called Nua. He went completely still, and when I hesitantly looked up at him after sitting down, he gave me a big, radiant smile.


Tags: Lily Mayne Folk Fantasy