She tapped him with her quill.

He pulled back to glare, but that quill waved in his face again. “Give me five minutes for this,” she said, cheeks flushed. “Then we can do that.”

He was going to hold her to that. “What was the question?”

“How do we feel about staying another day?”

His first reaction? Not horribly. They’d spent most of their time since the palace trading kisses and not much else. One more day wrapped around each other didn’t sound bad at all.

But with the storm easing, they would lose the cover it provided.

“Kato’s leg is in perfect working order,” Skye said. “If he could stop whining about it for two minutes, he might not get so out of breath going to take a piss.”

“So, it’s still first thing in the morning then?” Her voice wavered, just slightly.

“Hey.” Skye nudged her to look at him. Her eyes—once a soft, human gray—now blazed like there was a light flickering just behind them. “What’s going on in there?” He tapped her forehead.

“Nothing. I’m just planning. Someone in this intrepid band of misfits has to do it.”

Sure. The forests on the island were dangerous, and they needed to be smart about their route.

However…

Skye looked past her, to where their packs were lined up against the wall, each one with every strap neatly coiled and fastened like they were about to pass inspection.

Their weapons had been cleaned and polished to a shine.

Even the hayloft floor, once covered in dust and straw, had been swept clean.

“Was I not supposed to notice that you’ve been stress-cleaning?”

“Have not.”

Skye took her hand, tracing a thumb over her knuckles, where the skin was rubbed raw from too much scrubbing. He arched a brow but said nothing, letting the gesture speak for itself.

Taly sighed and hung her head. “I’m just nervous, okay. I don’t know if you noticed, but a few things have changed since I last saw Ivain and Sarina.”

She gestured up and down her body, and, hell , that was an invitation. He took his time drinking in the view.

“Skye,” she snapped when it became clear his attention had wandered.

He dragged his gaze back to hers. “Right—being Fey now, what a nightmare. I’m sure Ivain and Sarina will be just devastated you get to stay with them instead of dropping dead literal millennia before they do. I know I am.”

She fixed him with a look sharp enough to draw blood. “I lied to them, Skye. I lied a lot. What if they never forgive me?”

“You lied to me too,” he pointed out. “I forgave you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but…”

“What?”

“We both know that doesn’t count.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re a man. As horniness goes up, the threshold for forgiveness goes down. That’s just math.”

Skye huffed. “That’s… an interesting way to put it. Slightly offensive.”

“Am I wrong?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Skye grabbed her before she could wriggle away, pulling her back down and throwing a leg over hers so she couldn’t escape.

With her reluctant yet undivided attention, he said, “Ivain and Sarina love you.”

“Exactly, Skye. Most murders are committed by people who knew the victim.”

“Seriously? They’re pissed, Taly, not homicidal. Besides, if they wanted you dead, they wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble to get you back.”

“Unless they wanted to finish the job themselves.”

“Taly.”

She sighed. “Okay, fine. Maybe they won’t kill me.” A pause, then softer, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t end up killing them by association.”

“What does this have to do with forgiveness?” he asked.

“What if that forgiveness is misguided?”

“Oh Shards…”

“I’m just saying, are we really sure this is a good idea? Me, going back to Ryme? Because I think I could live a very satisfying life as a hermit.”

“Is that so?” Skye mused. “Maybe you could just run off on your own and leave everyone to think you died while you’re at it?”

She scowled. “Fair point, but ouch.”

“You already tried to be a hermit, Taly. It didn’t work.”

“Yeah, because I stayed in Ryme. I didn’t fully commit. This time, I’m thinking I go completely off-grid.”

He flicked her nose.

“Ow.”

“Look at me, Taly. Do you see my face?”

They were nose-to-nose.

“You’re all I can see right now.”

“And?”

“You look very serious.”

“Because I am. Stop that train of irrational, self-destructive logic right now. You’re coming home. I’ll carry you back kicking and screaming if I have to.”

“Jerk,” she muttered.

“Bite me.”

She considered it, a sly grin curving her mouth. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. And warm. Too warm for the damp, icy chill that permeated the loft despite the fire blazing downstairs.

“It’s been five minutes,” Skye said.

She giggled as he pushed her flat against the bedroll. His lips brushed hers, the barest contact—just enough to make her lean in if she wanted the rest.

Easy , he reminded himself. Take it easy .

Taly was still new to this—he was getting all her firsts, and the last thing he wanted to do was rush her through them.

So, he kept it slow. Kept the press of his body light, savoring every gentle glide of her lips, every tentative shift as she tried to mirror his movements.

She was learning, feeling her way through this, and it made his chest ache with something too big to name.

Then she relaxed beneath him. Her fingers curled into his shirt. Tugging him closer, she deepened the kiss, moving against him with growing confidence.

He liked it when she did that—when she took that step, letting him know she wanted more.

He liked it too much.

A jolt of heat shot through him, pooling between his legs, pressing hard against the seam of his pants.

But he forced himself to stay steady—to keep his hands from wandering, to resist the urge to press closer.

There was always a point where she’d tense up again and start to second guess.

The longer he stayed in control, the more time they’d have—time to ease her forward, to nudge her further along that invisible line between hesitation and wanting.

One day, he wouldn’t have to wait. Wouldn’t have to think. He’d just take. And she’d let him. But until then—

A low growl of warning sounded from the shadows.

Skye growled back, though his was more frustrated than threatening. His body sagged in defeat, head dropping into the cradle of her neck.

“Why does this keep happening?” His voice was muffled.

“He’s not that bad,” Taly insisted, breathless.

“Not that bad? Taly, I can barely touch you without that thing getting its hackles raised.” He lifted his head, leveling a glare at the otherworldly blue stare peering at them from the shadows. “ Shoo .”

Long tail flicking, Calcifer stepped forward and plopped himself down. He would not.

“It would help if you were nicer to him,” Taly said. “Then maybe he wouldn’t think you were attacking me.”

“If anything, you’re the one attacking me,” Skye countered. “I’ve got scratches on my back.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” he said, grinning. “I like it when you mark me.”

There it was—that telltale flush. He wanted to pin it down, claim it, and make damn sure no one else ever earned it.

He kissed her again. How could he not? She was so close, her lips parted, and she tasted like something he’d been missing his whole life.

Calcifer hissed, low and insistent.

Taly broke the kiss. “It’s okay, baby,” she said breathlessly as Skye licked and nipped his way down her neck. “Mommy’s— oh —busy right now.”

Skye pulled back slightly, eyes twinkling. “I think he’s plotting my demise.”

“Too bad,” she whispered, pulling him back in.

Skye barely had a second to sink into her before—

“… hello? ” Kato’s voice floated up from downstairs, thin and painfully mistimed.

“Oh my Shards,” Taly groaned as Skye sighed and flopped onto his back in defeat.

If it wasn’t the overgrown cat, it was Kato. Honestly, he couldn’t tell which was worse.

“I swear, I’m going to kill him.”

Taly groaned and threw an arm over her face. “Not if I get to him first.”

“Go back to sleep, Kato!”

“Oh, sorry, didn’t realize you were busy .” Kato’s voice dripped with melodrama.

Taly kept her voice low. Privacy was hard to come by in a building with no insulation and even fewer doors.

“You know, I was willing to look past the whole him accusing me of betraying everything and everyone I’ve ever loved .

And I didn’t take issue with how horribly he’s always treated you.

Seriously, Em,” she said, going off on a familiar tangent, “he does one good deed, and we’re all just supposed to forget that he’s spent his entire life coming up with ways to hurt you?

How do we know this isn’t just one more elaborate, mean-spirited prank? ”

Skye had wrestled with the same thought—the same worry. Could he really trust his brother? “We talked about this already.”

She growled a sigh. “I know, I know. For now, we still need him to get back. But I swear if he asks me to document his final words one more time—”

“Someone!” Kato wailed. “This is it! The end is near if you don’t hurry!”

Taly glowered at Skye. He’s your brother, her eyes said. How did I get saddled with this?

Skye mouthed, I’m sorry. But it was her turn.

“I see the light!” Kato moaned.

“Good, go toward it,” she called back, pushing to her feet.

Skye watched her walk away, eyes fixed on the holy land—the way it swayed, every flex and slide of muscle beneath wool-lined trousers. The ladder creaked as she descended. A moment later, he heard her voice—soft, exasperated—berating Kato for not looking sick enough.

Outside, the thunder had faded to a distant rumble, the rain now a steady drizzle instead of a downpour. The storm was winding down, loosening its grip on the island.

One more night. Then tomorrow, they’d be off to Ryme. It had been nice, this little bubble of quiet. But even now, Skye could already feel it slipping away, worry creeping back in.

Why couldn’t she have been a secret air mage? Or a charming little illusionist? Something harmless. Something that didn’t make the entire fucking world want her dead.

But no. Time magic. Of course.

It was Taly. If she was going to have magic, it was always going to be the most dangerous kind. Because Shards forbid she make his life easy for once.

It occurred to him that he’d fallen for, perhaps, a slightly high-maintenance woman. Not that he would change a damn thing. The world made more sense when she was in it. Always had.

So, he’d do what he always did. Keep her safe. Keep her breathing. Because not doing so wasn’t an option.

He’d already lost her once. He’d felt that absence. The hollow it left behind. If it happened again…

He didn’t let himself finish the thought.

Skye glanced at Calcifer, still glaring at him with those empty eyes. Exhibit A that he had his work cut out for him—because Taly, for all her brilliance, had the survival instincts of a lemming.

It would help if she at least tried not to get herself killed. In a perfect world, she might even stop adopting pets inclined to eat her.

“Yeah, yeah. I know you’d love to maul me, but let’s not pretend you’re the only one suffering here.”

Calcifer growled, low and menacing.

“Right back at you, buddy.”