Page 31

Shayne Lyro, Heir to the House of Lyro

Warmth trickled along Shayne’s stomach and down his side, pooling at his hip and soaking his shirt beneath his coat. He didn’t notice it until the thundering of his chest subsided, and at that point, he felt the sting of the cold iron cut along his forearm, the gash in his left shoulder, and the ache of the needly slices up his legs, too. But especially, he felt the stab he’d taken in his side from the first guard at the Riothin gate. The stab that threatened to steal his alertness now and put him into a passed-out state that wouldn’t be good for him or Lily.

Ah, Lily. He’d stolen her back.

He smiled, hardly able to believe he’d found her at all, but revelling in the fact that she was actually where Hans-Der said she was, and Shayne hadn’t been forced to hunt the Ever Corners for the rest of his faeborn life.

The crossbeast grew tired from the sprint, so Shayne slowed the creature to a walk once he was sure they were far enough away from the House of Riothin. They wouldn’t have loads of time, but a few moments to rest would be enough for now. He slid off the creature’s back, then he turned and held his hands up for…

Lily was looking at him, but it sort of seemed like she wasn’t really looking at him.

Shayne’s mouth twisted to the side as he contemplated. He knew she’d snap out of it eventually, but it wasn’t exactly easy to see her this way. Even in her weakest moments in the human realm, she’d always seen him and known him, and probably wanted him a little. Not that he cared about any of that now.

He reached into his pocket and drew out a small bottle. “Drink this,” he instructed. “It’ll help you shake off—”

Instantly, Lily slid off the beast, grabbed the vial, uncorked it, and began to chug.

Shayne held his breath as he watched. He’d forgotten for a moment that he’d enslaved her. Shame on him. Shame, shame, shame.

“Lily,” he said, but she didn’t stop drinking until the vial was empty, even as a cold wind swept in and she shivered. She handed the vial back and wiped her mouth, and Shayne bit his lips. “In any other situation, I would have so much fun with this,” he admitted, more to himself. He sighed and took the vial, then he pulled off his crossbow, shrugged away his coat and threw it around her shoulders. “Give it a minute. Any second, you’ll be back to feeling yourself again, and I’m sure you’ll have plenty of things to say—”

“What happened to you?” she asked in a stern tone.

Shayne took a step back and looked her up and down. Was she back to her senses already? He’d never heard of fairy medicine working that fast. He followed her gaze down to his tunic and realized it was soaked with blood. “Ah, yes. This.” He pointed to his side where he’d been brutally stabbed. “It’s just a little scratch. I’ll be fine.”

Her eyes darted up to where he chewed on his tongue.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said. “Seriously, Shayne, you look like you’re going to pass out.”

“Huh,” Shayne glanced down at himself again. “That’s strange. I feel fine.”

His faeborn-cursed tongue fattened and itched. He was quite focused on it, trying not to bite on it right in front of her, until he noticed the glisten of moisture in the corners of her eyes, and suddenly his measly tongue felt like the least important thing in the entire forest.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Lily…”

She folded her arms and waited, and for all her attempts to appear strong, he only saw how her ankles wobbled in her heels, how her fingers dug into the flesh at her biceps, how the tears threatened to escape the corners of her eyes. It was all rather baffling, and so like her. How could she still be pretending after all this time?

He exhaled a heavy breath, and he said, “No human would be okay after all that.” He nodded back toward the way they came. “Even fairies break under those circumstances.”

Her face contorted, just a smidgen. One of those glittering tears escaped, but she smacked it away in an instant. And even though his chest got all twisty watching her try to fight it, he smiled. How he’d missed her; every little quirk of her face, how she scrunched her nose, how she glared, how she folded her arms to show off her scrawny little human muscles, how she tried to stand tall when she was never going to be as tall as him, and how it all made her such a perfect person for him to obsess over.

But, alas, his lashes fluttered, and his arm flew out to catch the tree beside him. “Queensbane,” he muttered. He tried blinking the dizzy spell away, cursing that pesky little stab wound in his side.

“Shayne,” Lily warned. “I swear, if you die, I’ll kill you.”

He burst out laughing, and, oops, it made him lose his balance. He slid down the side of the tree and rested in the grass, taking note of the crossbeast out of the corner of his eye in case the creature quickly decided he was food in this state.

Lily dropped into the grass beside him, grabbed a hold of his shirt, and tore it open.

“Pfft. Don’t be so obvious,” Shayne said as he leaned his head back against the tree. “If you want to see my abs so badly, just ask, ugly Human.”

Lily ignored him as she studied the wound. She swore under her breath and tore the rest of his shirt to pieces, then reached around him to tie one of the strips around his middle. “This is really bad! Why didn’t you tell me before if you were in this condition?” It sounded suspiciously like scolding when she said it. “I’m not joking—I’m seriously going to kill you if you bleed out. Shayne, this isn’t funny!”

He was still grinning anyway. He reached up to touch her jaw, and she slowed her ‘undressing him’ attack, bringing her gaze up to his. Her eyelids were coated in gold dust, making her blue eyes sharp even in the darkness. He studied the silver decorations in her hair, the garland crown she wore, the stunning red dress, and the heels…

It was despicable. Unfit for her.

He reached up and removed the antlers from her hair along with the garland. The motions put his fairy brain into a spin, and he was sure he would pass out after all if he wasn’t careful. If he couldn’t keep himself together, he might not get her away in time, and that was the most important thing.

“What are you doing?” she asked—her voice was nice and raspy. “You need to hold still.”

“I don’t like these things,” he admitted, tossing the garland aside. “I want to see you in a bulletproof vest. And a cozy knit sweater. And in that adorable little Fae Café apron I designed that fits you so well.”

She hesitated. Then she asked, “All at once?”

He laughed. “Sure.”

Even though she was being all serious, the corner of her mouth tugged up just slightly. Then she shook her head. “Unreal,” she muttered. “You’re such a child.”

“I want to go home, Lily,” he admitted. Something about the way he said it made her stop her fussing with his injury again. “With you,” he clarified. He was sure he’d regret this conversation later, and that he wasn’t at all in the right state of mind to say such things. But maybe confessions were easier when it was dark, and one was bleeding out against a tree. “You know I’ve loved you since the beginning, right, ugly Human?”

Her throat bobbed. Lily kept her eyes down on his wound. “I told you to stop calling me that,” she whispered.

“Since the moment I made you laugh at your department fundraiser, I realized I liked being your fake boyfriend,” he added. “I know we were only pretending to date all this time, but it was never really fake for me.”

“Stop talking, Shayne,” she said. “I don’t think you’re with it enough to tell me these things.”

He thought about that. “Probably not. Don’t hate me for it later.” He knew she didn’t like him back, not the way he liked her, which was astounding considering every other female in the human realm adored him. What a rebel.

Lily finally lifted her eyes to his. “Why even bring up the topic of going home then? Why wouldn’t you go home?”

Shayne lifted his hand and splayed his fingers. She looked at his hand oddly, clearly not seeing the evidence, even though it was right there, clinging to his forefinger in a gilded statement that spoke volumes and felt as heavy as a brick.

She pushed his hand back down, because she didn’t get it.

Ah well. He’d tell her later.

“Apply pressure here,” she said, apparently forgetting about the whole conversation. She took his hand and pressed it against his side. He winced as pain seared through his middle.

“Absolutely not. That’s the worst.” He shook his head and yanked his hand away.

Lily huffed a sound of disbelief and stood, but her ankle gave out and she almost fell in her heels.

“Don’t you want to take off your shoes?” Shayne asked. “You’ll appreciate the feeling of the grass on your bare feet, trust me.”

A rattling sounded in the distance, followed by heavy breathing and the stomping of hooves. Shayne turned his ear in that direction, hoping, praying to the sky deities, pleading…

He closed his eyes and his hands slowly pulled into fists. He’d hoped the House of Riothin would have been more preoccupied with trying to save the life of their High Lord than coming after him, but he supposed that was just wishful thinking.

Lily had no idea how close they were because her human ears failed her. “You need rest,” she said. She looked around in the forest. “I think I see some kind of house up ahead. Let’s go there.”

“No, Lily.” Shayne grabbed the tree at his back. He winced as he pulled himself to his feet, clinging to the bark with a shaking hand. “We need to keep running. They’ve found us.” He padded his waist for his fairsabers, but he found something else instead. “Speaking of which…” He drew out a human gun—one meant for killing fairies. He held it out to her. “I brought your favourite thing in the universe.”

Lily blinked a few times like she was second guessing what she was seeing. But her thoughts were taking too long, so Shayne grabbed her hand and shoved the gun into it. “If I pass out,” he said, and her eyes darted up to his with ample wildness, “shoot everything in sight and run.” He pulled a few cartridges of ammo out of his pockets, too.

“Shayne…” she whispered.

He already knew. Even before she’d said his name with such fear and begging, he knew this was not a fight she could handle. That everything she just went through was racing through her mind, about to drive her into madness. That she was very close to breaking; a strong creature in a fragile state. That she had perhaps learned the hard way that in the Ever Corners there were things far worse than death. And all at once, he decided he could not ask her to fight them, even if she did wish to be considered an always-strong-and-never-weak sort of human.

And so, he picked up his crossbow. He put a hand on her cheek as his eyes darted up to the fairies racing through the trees toward them, sliding off their deer and drawing their fairsabers. There were at least a dozen. He kept his gaze on them as he leaned against her ear and whispered. “Lily Baker,” he said. “Close your eyes and count to ten.”

Her eyes slid shut. Shayne stepped around her and raised his crossbow. He fired at the nearest fairy, and then he drew his fairsaber to take care of the rest.

“One,” Lily obediently said behind him.

He dug his fairsaber deep into all the fairy flesh he could reach.

“Two.”

Someone got a hit in against his wrist and he jerked back.

“Three.”

He spun, cutting two at the same time, but he missed the third and got stabbed through his leg.

“Four.”

He growled and threw his fairsaber at the fairy who’d stabbed him. By some miracle, it went clean through the fairy’s body and the fairy toppled over. Shayne rolled out of the way before he could be crushed.

“Five.”

He picked up a rock and hurled it at the others as he scooted backward over the grass, his leg leaking blood through his pants.

“Six.”

A fairsaber appeared over him and he sprang to the left as it stabbed downward, missing him by an inch. He kicked the fairy in the stomach.

“Seven.”

The fairy wobbled, so Shayne stole his fairsaber and sliced his legs.

“Eight.”

The same fairy grabbed Shayne’s hands and tried to wrestle his fairsaber out of them until Shayne grabbed a handful of dirt and whipped it into the fairy’s mouth.

“Nine.”

Shayne leapt to his feet, but his leg gave out instantly. He tumbled to a knee as three fairies surrounded him, their blades raised toward his chest and head. He went still.

“ Ten .”

Blasts erupted through the woods as three bullets were fired. Fairies fell to the ground, and Shayne jumped to his feet, putting the weight on his good leg as he swung at the last fairy. The fairy moved too fast, smacking Shayne’s fairsaber out of his hand and brushing past him. Shayne tried to grab him as he rushed at Lily who was reloading. The fairy swatted the gun from her fingers, and she scrambled backward against a tree.

In a heartbeat, Shayne picked up the gun, shoved the cartridge in, and aimed it at the back of the fairy’s head.

A rather satisfying blast filled the woods.

And there was Lily, gripping the tree at her back, her chest rising and falling. Not broken. Not at all.

Shayne smiled. He whispered to her, “Survivor.”

He fainted.