She cut herself off before she said too much. But it didn’t matter, anyway. Cuan was shaking his head.
“I am high sidhe,” he said, tone heavy. “Phouka too, but I cannot deny the other half of my heritage. A high sidhe is nothing without a sidhean, a court. True, I have lived without one before, for many cold, hungry years, but still…tell me honestly, Tamsin. Can you look at me, and see a place for me in your world?”
The terrible thing was that she could. She could picture it all too easily. Having breakfast with him in her kitchen, laughing as he tasted sugar-laden chocolate cereal for the first time. Walking with him through the fields, with Angus bounding at their heels. Introducing him to her favorite TV series, her favorite pub, her friends—
The vision popped like a soap bubble. How could Cuan, in all his splendid, magical glory, ever fit into her small domestic world? It would be like trying to keep a wolf as a house pet.
He was doing everything he could to free her from his realm. She couldn’t ask him to exile himself to hers.
“No,” she lied. “No. You’re right. It was stupid for me to even suggest it.”
“Dreams are never stupid,” he said softly. “Even when they are impossible. I am glad that you asked.”