Page 153 of Bitten By the Fae

I nearly snorted at my mental gymnastics, only Tray’s intense expression caught my attention. He was trying to tell me something with his gaze. I frowned, not understanding.

Aflora was a gifted singer. So what?

Except then her words began to register.

The ancient language she spoke was one I’d only heard in whispers throughout my upbringing. It was an ancient dialect of Midnight Fae that supposedly died with the Quandary Bloods.

The Council had maintained hints of the spells in our historical documents. Particularly, the most violent of potential enchantments.

Which was what she uttered now—a string of promises to realign the source through an incantation only Quandary Bloods understood. It sounded so hypnotically beautiful coming from her mouth. I could almost feel myself slipping into her thrall, willing her to carry out the threat lurking behind her bewitching melody.

“Aflora,” I breathed, stepping toward her as if to pull her into my arms.

But then the music stopped, and her blue eyes clouded over in distrust, her own feet carrying her backward and into Ella’s side.

I blinked.Right. Tray and Ella didn’t know about my attachment to Aflora. And I needed to keep it that way to protect them, because if they found out about what happened the other night, they’d be forced to speak to the Council or face severe punishments for conspiring to hide us.

This whole thing was a fucking mess.

“Who taught you that song?” Tray demanded, his dark gaze hard.

Aflora swallowed. “My mother did, many years ago.”

Tray glanced at me, his brown brow cocked upward. I stared back at him, telling him with my expression that I’d handle it. This was my job, not his. I’d go to Exos and Cyrus, see if they could give me some history on her background. The Earth Fae she grew up with was part of their mating circle. Maybe he’d know something useful.

“How could Aflora know a forbidden song about the realignment of power?” Ella asked, telling me that Tray had explained what the song meant before they arrived. Great. I hoped he was at least quiet about it.

“Maybe her mother heard it from someone,” I suggested, thinking on my feet. “And she didn’t understand the meaning, so she hummed it to Aflora as a little girl. The Elemental Fae wouldn’t recognize it, so her mother wouldn’t have thought much of it.”

“Sure. That’s one theory,” Tray said, still looking at me.

I dared him with my gaze to voice another. The tick in his jaw told me he wanted to, but not in front of Ella and Aflora. Likely because his speculation would be damning to my mate. Not that he knew we’d mated.

Well, he suspected it.

While he hadn’t expressly admitted it, I knew he was aware that I’d slept with Aflora. My twin had taken one look at the aftermath of her room, glowered at me, and stalked off. There was really only one thing that could have made me react like that, and it’d come from a very emotional place, brought on by sleeping with Aflora.

I only hoped he didn’t suspect the bond, or we’d be in a world of hurt. Not because I didn’t trust him, but because he’d end up risking himself and Ella to protect my actions. And I couldn’t let him suffer on my behalf.

I cleared my throat. “Look. It’s been a long fucking night. Hell, it’s been a long fucking week. We can worry about the song later. Just… don’t hum or repeat the words in public, yeah?” That part was directed at Aflora.

She nodded in reply, then pulled her cloak around her like a blanket. Or maybe she considered it a shield. Regardless, there wasn’t much we could do right now. I explained that to Tray with another look, one he conceded to with a nod.

Then I refocused on Aflora. “Come on. I want to show you what I did to your room.” I didn’t wait for her to acknowledge my request, just turned and headed to the hallway off to the left of the living area.

I passed the study area, guest room, and Tray’s quarters and paused at Aflora’s upgraded door. She appeared a minute later, her shoulders bowed a little as she met me alone in the corridor. Ella had probably told her to yell if I caused any trouble.

Given the tension in the air, that wouldn’t take much.

With a whispered spell, I called for the new key I’d created earlier and sent it to hover in front of her. Her blue irises swirled with power as she studied it. “What’s this?”

“Your key,” I told her. “It’s programmed to recognize your magic. I tied it to your wand, which is on your bed inside.”

“Why do I need a key?”

“Because I put a lock on your door, and that”—I gestured to the ornate metal rotating in the air between us—“is the only thing that can open it.”

Her ebony lashes flickered. “You made me a lock?”