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She snorted. “You’d be dead before you got within three blocks of the Syndicate.”

A wicked grin curled onto his lips. “You forget, Love, that I come from a Court considered just as dark and nasty as your Syndicate,” he replied, his tone low. “I assure you, as long as I bear your ring, I would not be the one dead in the encounter.”

He held her gaze as he slowly lowered into a crouch before her. Her eyes were muted and seemed more grey than blue. He slowly lifted her shirt as her fingers slipped from his hand.

“Gods, Scarlett,” he murmured. Bruises of deep yellow, purple and blue were already marring her skin. Sorin clenched his jaw. The force behind those blows had to have been extraordinary to cause this kind of effect already.

“They will heal,” she whispered, taking her top from his hand and pulling it back down.

“If we were in the Fae Courts, you would heal within hours,” he ground out. “But I suppose with that tonic you take, even with your ring, you will still take several days for that to heal.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I have something that will help,” he said, rising before her once more. “Go lie down on the couch.”

He walked not to his own room, but into the spare bedroom bathroom. Opening a cupboard, he dug through various jars of ointments until he found the one he was looking for. When he came back to the great room,Scarlett was back where she had been when he’d returned with food.

“Lift your shirt,” he said, kneeling beside the sofa.

Scarlett did so wordlessly, and he never thought he would miss her smart ass mouth as much as he did in that moment. This place she had slipped into was brought on by more than a fist and knee to the gut. He felt like he couldn’t reach her.

Sorin unscrewed the lid of the jar and scooped some of the ointment onto his fingers. He imbued heat to warm it before he gently placed his fingers on her bruise. He felt her muscles tense under his touch. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“It’s fine,” she said, turning her head to face the fire.

“Have you—” Sorin swallowed. “Have you had these injuries before?”

He saw a muscle feather in her jaw. After several beats of silence, she said, “Tell me of this weapon that you and your queen are searching for?”

Sorin’s hand stopped its movement for a moment. “Not much is known about it,” he answered, scooping a bit more ointment onto his fingers and moving back to the bruise on her ribs. She flinched at the contact once more, but relaxed a moment later. “It is supposed to be a weapon of great power created by those who supported Deimas and Esmeray.”

“How will obtaining it free you from your oppressors?”

“I am not sure yet. I suppose it will depend on what the weapon can actually do.”

“Are you done?” she asked quietly.

“What?”

“With the ointment,” she answered, her eyes flicking to the jar he held. He hadn’t realized his hand had stilled on her abdomen.

“Yes.” He screwed the lid back on as she slid her tunic back down. He reached for her hand to help her sit up, and her eyes widened in surprise.

“That is amazing,” she breathed. “What is in that ointment?”

“It was brought from my home, made by our Healers,” he answered. “It has helped, then?”

“Very much so,” she answered, pressing her fingers gently to her abdomen atop one of the bruises. Her eyes met his, and he got lost in the icy blue that seemed a touch brighter. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Of course,” he said, clearing his throat as he stood. With a flick of his wrist, hot tea appeared on the table beside the couch. “I am going to put this away.”

When he returned once more, Scarlett was sipping at her tea. “How did the current Fae Queen come to rule all the Courts?” she asked when she saw him.

Sorin crossed the space and took a seat next to her. He could have sworn she leaned slightly towards him as her shoulder pressed against his own. There was a small burst of flame and a map appeared in his hands. “Two Fae sisters used to rule the two halves. The first Queen of the Eastern Courts was killed after the Great War as many of the Royals were. However, she had a young daughter who assumed the throne when she came of age,” he explained. The Queen of the Western Courts was also killed later on, but she died without a recognized heir and so the current queen was granted the Western Courts as well.”

“Wouldn’t it have made more sense for a Royal from the Fire or Water Courts to have taken over?” she asked, studying the map.

“Perhaps, but who decides which Court rules?”