Page 41 of Finding Her (Lore of the Fields #1)

Ten Days Later

I sat in front of the living room fireplace, periodically flicking new flames into its blaze to regulate my emotions.

Nearby, Mykie dangled a leg off the couch lazily and stared at the ceiling, her long, sleek black ponytail dangling over the armrest. Faeryn was upstairs having some downtime in the bathroom.

She regularly took over an hour to soak in privacy; the water must have turned cold halfway through.

I hated her being cold when I could so easily keep her warm.

Regardless, she usually returned from her baths in a better mood.

Not that that was saying much since recently.

Faeryn had been tense since overhearing Mykie and I arguing, and who could blame her?

It had to be jarring, especially following our fights over that damned room and her desire to work.

I’d been na?ve to think I could carry this burden without it affecting her.

But there was nothing I could do about it; the alternative was allowing her to share a load that would be potentially crushing. I wouldn’t risk her well-being.

Mykie had been nothing if not supportive.

I owed her more than I could ever repay.

She had been combative, hostile, accusatory, and snarky with me—all for Faeryn’s benefit.

It was exactly what I wanted. I knew my temper had been nasty for several years, and she was continually testing it to ensure I was thinking clearly about the situation.

Having a friend challenge me on topics so sensitive was infuriating, but there needed to be someone checking me.

“She should have more social engagement,” I mused, snapping my finger against my palm to soothe the nettling itch of heat crackling beneath the surface.

We had been discussing how to improve Faeryn’s quality of life for an hour with minimal progress.

A heavy mist of discarded hypotheticals hung in the air.

She would be out of the bath any moment now, and a decision needed to be reached.

Her discontent pained me. Not to mention, having her unhappy in the home could prove dangerous.

I couldn’t have her trying to leave, or even worse, return to “ Earth ”.

“Like the pub?” Mykie sounded tired of my unproductive ramblings.

“The pub isn’t enough.” No matter how pure my intentions, they always returned to orchestrating her life.

I despised how controlling it felt, but there wasn’t another choice.

“She needs people who aren’t connected to me.

” I could growl at the thought of sharing her with the unknown, but knew it was true.

If I remained the center of her days, she would grow to hate me, and that would be catastrophic.

“You don’t trust anyone else with her, Gray,” Mykie grumbled, a hand covering her eyes in irritation.

She was right, but my feelings weren’t the priority. “Is there anyone you would trust with her?” I felt nauseous asking, but I had to. This wasn’t about me. And Mykie had proven herself to be as dedicated to the cause as I was.

Clearly caught off guard, Mykie turned her head to look at me with raised brows and blinking lashes. “That’s a loaded question.”

“You’re in the business of secrets, no? Surely, some of your peers respect discretion.” Most importantly, they would be neutral if not sympathetic with our situation, should something slip. Certainly more so than the average pub patron.

Her lips pursed in thought. “Yeah. I have some people in mind who would be safe for her.” Her eyes bore into mine.

“Safe, Graysen. Not necessarily pleasant, nor palatable, nor polite. But safe .” Each word she spoke was slow, deliberate.

She was making sure it sunk in. It was unnecessary; I never missed a single word related to Faeryn.

Safe was all that mattered; the rest could be addressed as needed.

I knew the kind of people Mykie associated with.

They all performed the same work and as a result were weighed down by similar demons.

Their rough edges cut the same. Although not the ideal company for my Little Fae, if she spent some time around them, she would feel more independent from me. It may help.

The sound of a door opening alerted me that Faeryn was done with her solitude, followed by the wood floor creaking ever closer, until she joined us in the living room.

I nodded my reluctant approval of our discussion to Mykie.

She crinkled her pointed nose in response.

We had finally settled on a plan, and it was time to execute.

“I feel much better,” Faeryn stated as she slumped into the nearby chair. Her hair became charcoal when it was freshly wet, forming distinct curls which would fall into waves as it dried.

Mykie stood. “I was just about to head out, but wanted to catch you before I left. Maybe you’d like to join me for a small get-together in a few days?” Her eyes skeptically glinted in my direction, as if I might retract my consent. I wouldn’t. I thought about it, but I wouldn’t.

Faeryn’s expression shone with intrigue. I was grateful to see the suggestion had caught her interest as much as I’d hoped. “Are you coming, Graysen?”

I swallowed the desire to jump at the invitation. “I don’t enjoy groups, but you should go.”

Mykie may have to tie me up to keep me away .

She grinned at Mykie. “Thanks for thinking of me. I’d love to join.”

“Cool. I’ll keep you posted.”

Mykie tugged on her heavy knee-high leather boots and gave us a finger wave before stomping down the hallway and out the door.

She had a way of carrying herself aggressively, even when calm.

Thankfully, Faeryn had adapted to her behavioral quirks quickly.

I hoped they would become close with time.

Mykie was my best friend. Faeryn was the breath in my lungs, the blood pumping through my heart, and the fire in my core.

I needed them to enjoy each other's company, eventually.

Stress bubbled up inside my chest. To release it, I cast another round of flames into the brick as casually as possible.

I wasn’t sure if she had caught on to how linked my emotions were to my fire.

When antagonized, they would spark a burning sting through my hands, cramping my fingers if left unaddressed.

It was a feeling most adult Pyrans had learned to manage, but I had become resensitized after what happened all those years ago.

The discomfort was a humbling reminder of my neuroticism, and I found myself struggling to repress it.

My lack of control over my biology’s blood gift was frankly embarrassing.

“It’s lovely how you’re able to do that.” Her voice broke through my mental cloud.

Faeryn had been withholding pleasantries as of late, and I missed them greatly.

I wanted to tell her everything . Before Faeryn came downstairs, I’d been monologuing about it to Mykie.

She was talking about “ Earth ” less, so maybe there was hope.

If I confessed, that would explain my flaws and have her accept me as a mate…

maybe. Mykie had been cautiously supportive, but as with every other time, I talked myself out of it for Faeryn’s sake.

“It’s genetics, my dear.” Not my most appreciative response, but my thoughts were too turbulent to find the words “ thank you ”.

“Better than my genetics.”

I begged to differ, but I bit my tongue. That topic was certainly off limits. “Do you want to hear how my conversation with Theo went?” Having come home from my shift during her bath, I was eager to share what scrap of good news I had to offer her.

Theo had, as with many instances before, disappeared on a hiking excursion the same day I’d promised Faeryn I would put in a good word for her.

These trips were unpredictable; there was no reason at the time for me to think he would be entirely absent for the first half of winter.

She was rightfully suspicious when I told her he was gone and might not be back for an indeterminate amount of time.

Of course, I had no way to convince her of my sincerity.

“He’s back!” She jumped to the edge of her seat and beamed. “Yes, tell me. I’m dying to know.” Adorable .

“He said he was in need of a new bartender and asked if you could start tomorrow.” She was practically bouncing up and down. “I told him that I was sure you’d be thrilled to.”

And I had been correct.

“So thrilled!”

Her smile suddenly faded, and a wave of seriousness extinguished her glee.

“What’s wrong?” My mind raced. Had I not played this perfectly? I lined up both social activities and a job for her. What could possibly be interfering with her happiness now? I had to fix it, I had to make that smile come back, I had to—

“Graysen, I don’t know the first thing about alcohol on this planet.” She bit the side of her lip and squinted her eyes apologetically. I relaxed immediately. Of course, that was her concern. As if I didn’t already know inexperience would be at play. I was certain Theo wouldn’t mind.

“You’ll learn.” I smiled reassuringly. I would say anything to return to her unadulterated exuberance. I’d been starved of it for far too long.

“I’m worried I’ll out myself as, well, not being from here. I don’t even know the basic terminology for Trebianna’s alcohol.”

Now that was a problem. It was difficult to constantly predict what was and wasn’t congruent with her memories from “ Earth” . There was obvious overlap that I relied on more than I should. This could draw attention.

“It sounds like you need a crash course in the safety of your own home.” Of course, I would make sure she was as confident and prepared as possible.

My cabinets contained enough to get us through a rudimentary course.

“How about I make dinner, and we hold an introductory bartending lesson afterwards?”

Hope filled my core when her eyes crinkled with a genuine smile. “I’d really enjoy that.”