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Her gaze darted off, and he sighed once more at his wretched thoughts.

“Idowant to ask something,” she stated quietly, before chewing the inside of her cheek.

A tingle began to trickle in the back of his skull.She better speak fast. The fragments are returning to pester me.

“Can I ask...whyyou won’t help my people?”

His orbs flared in their orange hue, highlighting a small amount of his guilt when she fluttered those pretty eyelashes at him.

Yet, his response was direct, harsh, and steadfast. Nathair folded his arms and tilted his head to the side, coldly stating, “Why should I?”

“Excuse me?” she squeaked, her voice turning higher pitched.

“Why should I help them? What reason do I have to do so?”

She gave him a cute pout. “Because I asked nicely?”

“You could ask me nicely to kill you too. Should I just adhere to every wish you may ask of me?”

Linh flinched at that and cupped her hands to her chest self-consciously. “Well, no. But... they’re good people. They deserve to be helped. We all do in this valley. You’re so strong that if you went between the mountain peaks south of here and destroyed the main bandit camp, you would save us all.”

“I could do that. I very easily could rid you all of this problem,” Nathair stated, tilting his head the other way. “But the question still remains. Why should I? Why should I help humans when, given the chance, they would turn on me simply because of what I am?”

“T-they wouldn’t!” she yelled, throwing her hands up defensively. “I would tell them that you’re there to help.”

His laugh was dark and filled with malice. “Ah, so they would needconvincingto spare me? Did you not just say they were ‘nice,’ Linh? If I were to crawl my way into your village, they would accept my help and, once I did, could turn around and attempt to capture me, stab me in the back.”

She opened her mouth to refute him, and Nathair let out a sharp, maw-snapping snarl.

“Humans are unkind creatures, little female.” He lifted his hands, his claws facing upwards, before he fisted them. “I haveseenthem be vile. They steal, they lie, they murder, they...”

He didn’t dare utter his final word, and he made sure his mind didn’t echo it. But she seemed to understand anyway, and her features drooped and grew ashen.

“They think of me as a monster, when their hearts drip with malicious selfishness. You want my help, but if I needed it, would they come to aid me?”

“I would be there to make sure they did,” she argued. “I know my people. I even know the people in the eastern part of the mountain ranges. We’re good people, Nathair.”

“So are Demons,” he bit out.

Her eyelids flickered in surprise as her jaw dropped. “Pardon?”

“Demons can be good as well. I’ve heard of it, not just here, but in another world. There is no difference between humans and Demons to me. Both are cruel, both can be good-natured. Should I side with the Demons just because they can be ‘kind’ and band with them to fight against humans, your species, instead?”

“I-I don’t understand, Nathair. What are you saying?” Linh shook her head, struggling to digest this new bout of information he was sharing.

But he knew it was true. Weldir had told him of everything that happened here, and the trickles of information his mother, the Witch Owl, had managed to gather on her own in Nyl’theria, the Elven realm. Nathair had been gifted so much knowledge of the outside worlds, and never thought he’d ever need it.

He’d been wrong, and now this female sat before him, asking him to be selfless.

“I am a monster, Linh.” He placed his hand on top of her hair and tilted her head back. He cradled it in his claws, being gentle when he could crush her skull with little effort. “I am hated by everyone and everything. Just because you have decided to see me as your saviour, does not make me a holy being. I am violent,I am depraved, and I amtired.I have suffered enough, and the wars of humans are not mine to fight.”

“Is there really nothing I can do to convince you?” she whispered from beneath his reaching hand.

He slipped it down the side of her face and brushed his thumb up and down her cheek. He took in the softness of her supple skin, how smooth it was, its gentle warmth. Then he admired the cute, rounded edge of her ear before touching the ruby gem dangling from her lobe.

“I am unstable, little nightingale. I would only do more harm than good.” When she didn’t respond, not even a twitch of a muscle or a softening gaze, he asked, “Did you hear that?”

He received no answer.