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He had me there.

Reaching for the tankard, I took a drink. “I’m guessing the Primal of Life probably isn’t thrilled with me restoring life, huh?”

He laughed, the sound hoarse and untried.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” Reaver lowered the apple. “Nyktos would be conflicted over your actions. On one hand, he would never not be happy about a renewal of life. On the other, he would worry about the nature of things. The course of life and death and how such an intervention alters the balance—the fairness.” The corner of his lips tilted up, softening the sharp features. “When it comes to the Consort and choice to act or not, she would weigh the concerns, toss them aside, hope no one was paying attention, and just do it.” Dusky lashes lifted as he gave me a sideways glance. “Sound familiar?”

“No,” I muttered, and Reaver chuckled, the sound just as rough as the laugh. “Why does the Consort sleep so deeply when Nyktos doesn’t?”

Reaver looked down at his apple, not speaking for several long moments. “It’s the only way to stop her.”

Chapter 17

My brows flew up. “Stop her from what?”

“From doing something she’d regret,” Reaver said, and my stomach lurched. “Both of her sons were taken from her. Neither may be dead, but neither are really alive, are they?”

No. They really weren’t.

“She’s angry. Furious enough to forget who she is. Enough to cause the kind of harm that cannot be undone.”

I didn’t know what it was like to be a mother and to have a child taken from me, but I knew what I’d done when Ian died. I knew what I’d done when I learned Casteel had been taken. So, in some small way, I could understand her anger.

His gaze flicked to the rounded archway. “When will we leave for the capital?”

“I will speak to the people tomorrow.” My throat dried. “And the families.”

“That…that will not be easy.”

“No, it won’t be.” I lowered the tankard to the counter. “We’ll leave the day after.”

“Good.” He paused. “We must not forget about Ires.”

“I haven’t.”

“He must return home.” His gaze remained fixed on the entrance. “Here comes your wolven.”

“As I said before, he’s not my wolven,” I snapped, just as Kieran appeared in the doorway.

He stopped mid-step, his eyes widening slightly.

“Surprised?” Reaver asked.

Kieran’s expression settled into one that could only be described as bland boredom. “I’m unused to seeing you not picking your teeth with your claws.”

“I can do that now if it makes you feel better,” Reaver remarked and then bit into the apple again.

“Not necessary.” Kieran gave him the once-over, his eyebrow rising as he turned to me. “He’s wearing a sheet.”

“And that’s why I said he needed clothing.”

Reaver frowned around his apple. “Do you expect me to wear his clothing?”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Kieran demanded.

A fair brow rose as Reaver mimicked Kieran’s earlier look. “I don’t believe they will fit me. I have broader shoulders.”

“I don’t think so,” Kieran replied.

“And chest.”

Kieran’s arms crossed. “You definitely do not have that either.”

“And my legs are not thin twigs that could snap under a breeze,” Reaver continued.

“Are you serious?” Kieran looked down at himself. He didn’t have…twig legs or whatever.

“Reaver.” I sighed.

He lifted a bare shoulder. “Just saying.”

“You’re just saying nonsense. You both are nearly the same height and size,” I said.

“I believe your vision could use improvement,” the draken responded, and I rolled my eyes.

“You could use an attitude improvement,” Kieran retorted.

“I ate a lot of ham,” I announced to Kieran before Reaver could fire back another barb. Both males looked at me. “A lot. You’d be proud.”

“While I’m glad to hear that,” Kieran began, “that was a little random, Poppy.”

“Yeah, well, I’m feeling random.” I scooted off the counter. “Were you looking for me?”

“What else would he be doing?” Reaver asked.

Kieran’s eyes narrowed on the draken. “Literally anything that doesn’t include sitting in nothing but a sheet and eating an apple.”

“So, not much, then?” Reaver quipped.

“Reaver,” I said, shooting him a look. “Stop antagonizing Kieran.”

“I have done no such thing,” the draken denied. “He is just overly sensitive…for a wolven.”

Kieran’s arms unfolded as he stepped forward.

I held up a hand. “Don’t start.”

“Start?” He turned to me. “What exactly have I started? I just walked in here.”

“See?” Reaver tossed the apple core into a nearby bin. “Sensitive.”

“And you need to stop,” I said, planting my hands on my hips. “I get it. Kieran almost stepped on your tail.” I turned to the wolven. “Reaver almost bit your hand. Stop whining and get over it.”

“He almost stepped on my entire leg,” Reaver corrected. “Not my tail.”

“And he almost bit my arm off.” Kieran’s eyes narrowed. “Not my hand.”

I stared at them. “You two are…I don’t even know.” I narrowed my stare on Kieran when he started to respond. He wisely closed his mouth. “So, were you looking for me?”