Page 6 of A Song of Air (Fae Elementals #4)

B ryson’s feet carried her through the woods. Overhead, her familiar circled, either hunting or keeping a close watch on Bryson after receiving all that information, she wasn’t sure. Things in her mind were reeling, and her familiar knew not to add on to her already stressed state.

She’d been paired up with Ev for patrolling, something she was sure he had everything to do with. He tried to keep her close during moments like this, though she wasn’t sure if it was so they could spend more time together, or if it was out of jealousy and he didn’t want her to be with others...

“Bryson, slow down,” Ev called out. He rushed to keep up with her fast stride. When he caught up to her, he tossed his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

Her skin itched at the contact.

Bryson noticed a pattern when it came to Ev. Every time after they were intimate, he pulled her closer, almost to the point of being clingy . He became her shadow and showered her with affection. She tried not to be annoyed with him, though, and never set up her own boundaries.

They were together, after all. Relationships were hard to form these days, especially for Bryson. When others thought of her as defective, Everett was different. He was kind to her, and she laughed when she was with him. The sex wasn’t terrible, either. In fact, she enjoyed it.

The problem was, he enjoyed it more . Perhaps it was because she was Fae and he was human, creating a very obvious power imbalance. She couldn’t use the full extent of her strength, and while he definitely gave her orgasms, there were times where she felt... unsatisfied afterwards. Like she had too much energy beneath her skin, and she didn’t know how to blow it off.

Had Everett been Fae, their sessions likely would have lasted hours. For a moment, she entertained the idea of fucking a Fae. What would it be like? Would it leave her mind blown, her body sated, her thoughts quiet?

For an even crazier moment, she entertained the idea of fucking a mate. It was rumored that there was nothing better in the world. But Bryson had long ago swept those notions away and settled with what she had.

She was happy with Ev.

She didn’t need anything else.

Bryson shrugged his hold off and kept walking, picking up speed. He had to rush to keep up with her, and she could already hear his heartbeat accelerating from the exertion.

She could almost feel his frown. “Bryce... What’s wrong?”

“How long have you known?” she asked suddenly.

“Known what?”

“How long have you known about the Resistance? About Dana and the West Isles?”

That energy expanded through her body, and she expelled it with a gush of wind that ruffled the creaking branches of the trees.

His answer was slow and cautious. “For... weeks.”

She stopped, whirling to face him. She heard his feet stumble on the ground. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

Beneath that rage, there was also hurt. Unlike with Malika, she and Ev shared secrets with one another. He knew about her past, about her parents and her sister. Her family had been loyal to the Seelie crown. He would have known what the news of the Resistance would have meant to her and the memory of her family.

And he’d kept it from her.

“Bryson,” he chastised. “You know I can’t discuss the workings of the camp with you. Arlo would—”

“Well, you aren’t fucking Arlo, are you?” she snapped.

He gave pause at her crude tone. She could almost feel his shock like a tangible thing. He didn’t choose his next words carefully, but matched her tone with annoyance of his own. “What does it matter if I tell you or not, Bryce? What difference would it make?”

She reeled back on her heels. “What do you mean what difference would it make?”

He scoffed. “It’s not like you’re a part of that damn Resistance. You’re a part of us. Of our community. Aren’t you?”

There was a note of accusation in his voice that made anxiety rise in her chest. Arlo had demanded her story when he’d pulled her from that wagon all those years ago. He’d pulled her aside and asked, said he needed to know. Over the years, his presence and fatherly affections made her feel like he was eclipsing the memories of her family. She’d fought like hell to keep them alive, and Arlo had noticed it seemed to tear her loyalties in different directions.

That blasted question made her feel that way. She owed Arlo. She owed this community. If she even whispered that she admired the Resistance, she would be shunned. Cast out.

“I am,” she gritted out. “But that’s not the point.”

“No?” He sounded amused. “Then what’s the point, Bryson Varik?”

She gritted her teeth, hating when he used her full name. Like she was a petulant child that needed scolding. For fuck’s sake, she was older than him.

“The point is trust. I tell you everything, and you don’t tell me anything!”

In the distance, a bird chirped and flew away.

“Bryson...” He stepped closer, and she wanted to flinch away when his hands came down gently on her arms, but she kept very still. “If I don’t tell you things, it’s only because I know they’ll hurt you. You can lie to everyone else, but I know that you’re still worked up about your family. I know you still feel a sense of loyalty to them, and telling you about the Resistance sooner would have only confused you.”

“I’m strong,” she argued.

He patted her arms, his voice condescending as he replied, “Sure you are. But you would have gained nothing from knowing sooner. But you know now, so why are you so angry?”

Why was she so angry? She gave pause to mull the question over in her mind. Sure, even if he had told her the truth sooner, there would have been nothing she could have done about it, except brood. But like she said, it wasn’t even about that.

It was about being lied to.

It was about how everyone was quick to push her into the fray to shoot at humans and use her magic to save others when they needed it, but the minute she stepped back into camp she was little more than a delicate flower.

She wasn’t a fucking flower.

She was a fucking storm .

“Forget it,” she grumbled, pulling away from him. It would do no good to stand in the middle of the forest and argue semantics. It wasn’t as if she could get her feelings across anyway. Not when she herself didn’t even know how to voice them, and he would refuse to listen even if she did. “We have to look out for Kurreen.”

She started to walk away, trying to drown out her mess of emotions and focus instead on her surroundings.

“Bryson, come on. Now you’re pissed at me. You know I’m only giving Arlo what he wants until I can take over. I need you to fucking trust me. I need you to let me protect you.”

I don’t need your protection.

The words caught in her throat, even though she wanted to scream them to the heavens. She wanted to move on from the subject. She wanted to go on patrol and hopefully find the Kurreen so she could shoot the bastards in their throats and then go off and brood somewhere else at the end of the day.

She didn’t want Ev touching her. She didn’t even want him speaking to her.

And she most certainly didn’t want his protection .

“Bryson!”

She huffed a breath. “Watch out on your left, Ev.” His feet stumbled as he veered away from the direction she said. He tripped and fell shy of the edge where she told him not to. “There’s a mushroom circle right there.”