Page 77 of With Wing And Claw

She should answer the implied questions, probably. Honestly, this time. But Thysandra was close enough to feel the warmthof her, and then there was that stunningly beautiful face in the moonlight, close enough to kiss … Strong cheekbones. The stubborn curve of wine-red lips. A jawline made to rule the world, begging for fingertips to trace along its smooth, chiselled edges …

She was sad and tired and hurting, and how was anyone supposed to come up withwordsin the face of such magnificence?

Thysandra’s worry was a chilly fog around them. Frustration, too, a pressure like stone about to crack. More than anything, though, there was anabsence– of that chafing, abrading feeling that Naxi had known to follow her wherever she went, as constant as the rush of the sea and the caress of the island breeze.

‘You’re not scared of me,’ she breathed.

A flicker of confusion stirred between them.

‘What?’ A blink. ‘No, of course I’m not. Haven’t we established that plenty of times by—’

‘Why?’ Naxi said feebly.

Thysandra stared at her. ‘Beg your pardon?’

‘Why aren’t you?’ Her bottom lip was trembling again. ‘Everyone always is.’

There was a single beat of silence.

Then Thysandra said, ‘Ah.’

It sounded tired, that one word. Resigned. The confusion between them had vanished at once, and so had the frustration, leaving nothing but that numbing, swirling coolness of concern behind.

It was getting harder and harder to keep her lip under control.

‘It helps that I know how demons work,’ Thysandra finally said, sounding as though she was choosing her words with the greatest circumspection. As though Naxi might shatter at a single unfortunate turn of phrase. ‘Most people haven’t spent their life studying your kind. Which means they think you’re entirely unpredictable, which I suppose is rather more alarming than knowing you’ll simply always choose the path of least inconvenience. Once there’s a path, it can at least be influenced.’

‘But …’ It made sense, and yet it didn’t. ‘But you still don’ttrust me, either.’

‘No.’ Thysandra grimaced. ‘Because I know how demons work.’

Naxi swallowed. ‘Oh.’

‘All the same …’ Before she realised what was happening, a coat swept around her shoulders, woolly and warm against her chilly skin. Strong arms scooped her off the forest ground the next moment, cradling her like a child to be coddled. ‘All the same, I’ve decided I’m going to need your help.’

The night was getting more bewildering every minute.

‘I told you that ages ago,’ Naxi managed, unable to keep down her indignant little huff even though three quarters of her mind was not at all bothered with huffing, and much, much more concerned with the warm, muscular body carrying her into the glowing caves of the Labyrinth. Thysandra was so verystrong. So perfectlyshapely. Hard and soft in all the right places, and it was getting more and more challenging to think about being right when she could also be thinking about the fastest way to get her hands on every inch of those delectable curves. ‘And then you told me to get out of your sight.’

‘Yes,’ Thysandra sourly admitted, making a smooth quarter turn to avoid a protruding mass of rock, ‘because I didn’t have the faintest clue of what I was actually trying to achieve. You’ve got to agree you aren’t the most obvious ally when it comes to building up a fae court.’

Something reallyhadchanged about her. A frothy, foamy lightness bubbling from her heart, a feeling that was the opposite of weight – as if something had lifted or loosened or finally slotted into place. Naxi knew her cautious and dutiful.Reactive. Not like this, tight with the pressure of impatience, ready to burst into action like a kettle about to boil.

It was utterly intoxicating.

‘So whatareyou trying to achieve, then?’ She was growing a little breathless. Above them, the Labyrinth twinkled brighter than ever, like a constellation of dazzling colours. ‘Are you planning to raze a fae court to the ground?’

Thysandra shrugged. ‘If we don’t have another choice.’

‘If— Wait, what?’ She tried to veer up, only to find that the strong arms holding her weren’t at all inclined to let go. In a tangle of limbs and skirts, she wilted and protested, ‘That was ajoke, Sashka!’

‘Not from me.’ A wry grin. ‘Let’s get some food inside you before we talk about that.’

She lowered Naxi to the ground as she spoke those last words, onto the smooth, unexpectedly soft stone floor of the Labyrinth. The air was warmer here, two bends removed from the night outside. The black coat around Naxi’s shoulders was so long it brushed the tunnel floor; its sleeves hung past her hands, making her feel snug and infuriatingly small at once.

She turned where she stood, following Thysandra’s steps with her eyes. Only when the other female knelt to retrieve it did she notice the large wicker basket tucked away in a narrow corner of the cave.

‘Oh,’ she said with a little gasp. ‘We’re having apicnic?’