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I nodded eagerly. “I do. Who are you?”

Pain creased his face. His hands slid back into my hair, and I smiled again because it felt amazing. I’d missed that.

“What’s my name, Ash?” he said in a low, urgent voice.

I laughed. “What?”

“What’s my name?” he repeated, staring at me hard.

I gurgled with laughter again. “I don’t know.”

“Lonan,” he said forcefully. “It’s Lonan. I’m Lonan.”

I smiled lazily. “Are you?”

“Yes.” His voice was anguished, his fingers tight in my hair. “Ash, please remember me. Please.”

“I do remember you,” I told him in as serious a voice as I could manage, because he seemed so sad.

I wanted him to feel better. I didn’t like him being sad. I never had, even though I’d only just met him.

I leaned forward again and kissed him, then kissed my way along his jaw and down his neck.

His breath shuddered out of him. “Ash, y-you—I don’t—”

“I miss you,” I murmured into his neck, closing my eyes as I breathed in his scent. Why was it so familiar to me? Like coming inside from the cold.

He let out a choked sound.

“How can you miss me if you don’t remember me?” His voice was agonised, and he pulled my head back to peer hard at my face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. I’m great.”

“No, something’s wrong.” Thumbs gently pulled at the delicate skin under my eyes, and his endless black gaze seemed to stare directly into my soul. “Your pupils are… What have you taken?”

He sounded scared. Worried. I wanted to reassure him.

“Gillie gave me the thing. So I could see,” I told him with a wide smile, then reached up to touch his temple and asked, “Where’s your crown?”

He still looked fearful. “What thing? See what?”

I lowered my hand and frowned in thought as I tried to remember. “Ogma. I’m going to see Ogma.”

His breath caught.

“The… The Keeper of Names?” His beautiful black eyes were wide, and I grew distracted at the colours that seemed to gleam within them. “You know how to get there?”

I snorted, reaching up to tap his nose. “I know howIcan get there. Not you, wolf. Gillie said no one can follow me.”

“What did he give you?” he said urgently, though his hands cupping my face remained gentle. “What will let you see her?”

“The mushrooms.”

“What kind? What did he do with them?”

I just shrugged, getting distracted again as my gaze drifted down to his mouth. I started leaning forward to kiss him, but he stopped me.

“Can you tell me—” His ragged voice cut off abruptly, like he couldn’t get the words out. Eyes desperate, he tried again. “Tell me ho—” He groaned in frustration. “Please.”


Tags: Lily Mayne Folk Fantasy