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She gathered her boots and her shawl. Kade watched her and his chance of coming clean to her falling through his fingers, like trying to grasp the wind.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Evelyn

In the time they’d gone, Callum had transformed. An apricot-colored banner read “Autumn Festival” above the entrance of the town, and towers of gourds leaned on either side. Carved pumpkins sat on bales of hay. Wreaths of dried leaves hung from the doors, garlands of apples cascaded from balconies, and vendors, booths, and games packed the streets, filling the day with cheer and celebration.

Eventually, the townsfolk recognized Evelyn and Cyrus and stared as they passed, Bleu clopping alongside them.

Evelyn sighed. “I assume word is out.”

The whisperings of the townsfolk reminded her too much of those back in Sorin, everyone seeing her as Daughter of the Goddess, judging her abilities, pointing out what she lacked. Callum knew her as Saige Ferriwether, the mysterious outsider, but now they knew her as a witch with flame, and she worried how long it would be before they drew their own conclusions as to who she was.

Cyrus threaded his fingers through hers, too quick for anyone to notice, but his discreet touch gave her comfort. “I hope you find it in you to forgive Commissioner Doyle. I imagine keeping the defeat of an entire faerie tribe in the Gray Wood a secret is near impossible.”

Evelyn didn’t blame Commissioner Doyle. She’d told Cyrus she wanted him to be a part of whatever she did next, and she wanted to control the news as it trickled back home to Sorin. She feared how word would travel across the sea to the Carson coven, the Drengr pack. Anxiety tickled through her, hiking her fear so it threatened to unravel her.

“Hey,” Cyrus said, slowing Bleu as they reached the Runaway Radish. He turned to face her, using Bleu as a wall to shield their conversation. “Why do you look so worried?”

Evelyn shook her head.

“Don’t tell me it’s complicated,” he said in a playful tone.

Evelyn bit her lip and then laughed. She supposed everything was complicated at this point. Her secrets, her relationship with Cyrus, the murder investigation. Yes, they’d saved a young woman’s life. Yes, she’d been honest with him. And yes, they were very much, undeniably, falling for one another.

She eyed his jaw line, appreciated his broad shoulders. She remembered the feel of his taut chest underneath her fingers, that unimaginable promise he’d teased against her core. She felt hot thinking about their morning, and it was not due to the heat of her magic flaring inside with hunger.

Evelyn wanted him.

A gleeful screech gained their attention as a small but mighty force barreled into Evelyn. Aster wrapped her arms around her, holding her in the tightest of hugs.

“Oh! I’ve missed you!” she said.

Evelyn laughed, hugging her friend back. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Aster’s chin reached Evelyn’s breastbone, and she rested it there as she looked up. “I hear you’re a hero, and I better get the first account of what happened right from the source!”

Evelyn grimaced at the word hero, hating it. She’d hated it back in Sorin, too, and in Callum the word still filled her with dread and heaviness. She didn’t deserve the word.

She pulled her friend’s arms free. “I will, if you promise to never call me a hero again.”

“But—”

“I brought something for you,” Evelyn said. She rummaged in Bleu’s side saddle, handing Aster the ruined crown of the Gray Wood—Tessa had given it to her as a reminder of what she’d done. It had not burnt entirely to ash but had hardened to black stone under her flame’s heat, never to hold dark magic again.

Aster took it, her small hands trembling as realization dawned on her. “Damn dandelions, do you know what this is?”

Evelyn shrugged. “Not exactly, but it was dark and wrong, and I think the Gray Wood is free now.”

“Thanks to you,” Cyrus said, his brows raised, expectant, as if annoyed she’d left that part out.

“Wait,” Aster said, eyes going wide. “You did this?” She raised the blackened crown, devoid of any power. “But this is the Dark Crown of the Gray Wood. It would take considerable power to destroy it. You’d have to . . .”

Aster paused, taking a step back as if seeing Evelyn for the first time. She was speechless, her eyes growing wide and then flicking to Cyrus and growing wider. Evelyn guessed her friend had figured out who she was, but thank the Goddess she was too speechless to say anything out loud.

Beside her, Cyrus stiffened, his hold on Bleu’s reins tight. Had he recognized Aster’s reaction as realization? Evelyn worried it wouldn’t be long before he drew conclusions himself, but perhaps she wouldn’t say anything until he brought it up.

If he brought it up.