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Elf Glen was the opposite of Orc Haven. Mountains rose on either side, where Orc Haven had been flat plains sloping gently into a mountain range in the distance. Green grass and wildflowers drifted in the breeze, covering the way as she walked up to the ornate gates of the city.

She followed the streets, taking in the beauty as she looked for the specific inn Lucas had told her to find: The Green Cauldron. But when she arrived, they had no more rooms. She tried several of the inns in the same row, and finally came to Old Mill Inn. Paint chipped off thefacade, and she had to yank on the door several times before it opened, but the smell of food hit her nose the moment she entered and all she wanted was to eat. The dining hall adjoining it was full of people talking loudly and music playing in the background.

She got a room, set her things in it, then went downstairs, pulling out her notes and reading through them. Her hands itched to continue the translation ofThe Tales of Lemia, but she had to focus. No time for tomfoolery now. She’d already wasted enough time trying to get here.

“Avenay, sitting in a pub, studying. I’m shocked.”

Avenay’s feathers ruffled at that voice. She glanced over her shoulder to see the most annoying being the gods had ever crafted walking towards her. Carlotti had short cropped black hair on one side, the other falling in a waterfall of dark waves that rested beautifully against her brown shoulders. Kohl lined her eyes in a way that made them look sharper, as if they were trying to pierce right into Avenay’s soul.

Carlotti had long been Avenay’s academic rival, back to when they were young children learning their numbers and letters. Carlotti had shifted her focus of study to history, which was closely enough related to Avenay’s that they had far too many classes together.

She came to the table and sat on it, looking over Avenay’s papers. “What are you presenting, Avie?”

Carlotti reached for a piece of paper, but Avenay snatched it away, glaring at the female. She was tall and broad shouldered, with beautiful gray wings, dusted with black spots. Carlotti was bold and smart and beautiful and good with people, which meant that while they were rivals, Avenay knew it was only in the academic sense.

Avenay was aware she herself was beautiful—she had no insecurities there. Yet, she had a face that at rest was not appeasing or approachable, and she had been told more often than not that she should “smile more.” It was bewildering for many reasons, first of which being that she didn’t understand how she owed a single person in the world a smile for simply existing in their vicinity, and second, because she never realized she was mostly scowling all the time. Her face was often in books and books didn’t care two copper coins what your face looked like.

“You’re always glowering, dearest,” Carlotti said, each word dripping with condescension. “I’m certain you could have had this research position ages ago if you would stop frightening everyone.”

Avenay’s already rattled nerves were practically throbbing now. She knew that well enough. The people who loved her also knew her well.But she’d been called mean too many times for saying things she hadn’t thought were mean. There was never emotion attached to them. They had simply been so obvious she thought she was only stating facts.

Others didn’t see it that way. She’d learned, for the most part, to not say those things, even when others danced around them with platitudes and niceties, hiding their poison in a beautiful cocktail.

She would have to remember to smile and look more enthusiastic while she presented. Her findings were good, there was no doubt about it, but people had the oddest tendency to not hear what was being said simply because of how it was said. Avenay never had that problem. She always heard things precisely as the words were stated.

“Are you staying here too?” she asked.

Carlotti shook her head. “No, I arrived a day ago and had my pick of the inns. I’m a few doors down, but I heard this place had the best ale. It’s just a bonus I got to see you here.”

Avenay rolled her eyes. “Well, have fun with your ale.” She waved her hand in a shooing motion.

Carlotti flashed one more brilliant smile and wandered off. Avenay watched as she walked through the crowds. But then her heart stopped. As the people parted, she noticed the black wings and leather armor of a swaggering female, who stood at the bar.

She also noticed how Carlotti sauntered up, leaning against the bar, batting her lashes at the demon. And how Enid responded.

Avenay’s stomach plummeted.

Which was silly andsounlike her. So what if she and Enid had shared a moment ages ago? So what if she’d secretly nursed this fantasy that Enid was so different from the gossip pages that someone like Carlotti could never catch her in her web?

Shock and horror rolled over her as the scene unfolded. Enid brushing a lock of hair behind Carlotti’s ear, the finger trailing along her jaw, then tilting Carlotti’s face up, the seraphe biting her lower lip as Enid bestowed a smile that made Avenay wished she didn’t have eyes to see it.

Avenay turned away, blinking back her surprise. What was Enid even doing here, anyway?

She looked back over her notes, desperately trying to focus, but she continued to read the same line repeatedly without comprehension. It was no use. Not while Enid was in the room with her. And certainly not while Enid was flirting with her mortal enemy!

She gritted her teeth, gripping the paper in her hand until her knuckles lightened. But her attention wanted to drift back to Enid. She peeked over her shoulder and groaned.

No, this was worse. So much worse. They weren’t flirting anymore. No, they were off in the opposite corner, kissing.

Kissing.

Avenay’s jaw dropped in indignation, though she couldn’t think of what the indignation should be. She only knew it felt outrageous and audacious for the two females to be kissing in the pub like that. Though Avenay noted there were a few other love birds throughout the room, some kissing, some cuddling, some sitting on laps.

This place was the darkest of pits.

She peeked back over her shoulder. They weren’t kissing anymore. Carlotti was droning on about something that most certainly had to do with her own inane hubris. Enid raised her brows and nodded, clearly trying to focus on whatever Carlotti said. Then her eyes drifted, landing on Avenay.

Avenay’s heart faltered, and she sat up straighter, fiddling with her nail beds. Enid’s whole body went preternaturally still, her face like one struck.