Page 62 of Finding Her (Lore of the Fields #1)

“Sorry about yesterday.” My face felt warm as Stella and I leaned against the back counter and watched our room of satisfied patrons chatter amongst themselves. This customer load felt incredibly manageable after the chaos of the holiday rush.

“What about yesterday?” I couldn’t tell if she was feigning ignorance. Had she really not noticed the scene unraveling?

“Having you escort Mr. Donnar home,” I sighed. “I don’t know what got into Graysen. I’ve never seen him like that before.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t the first time one of us had to get that man safely to his front door, and it won’t be the last. I needed the fresh air anyway.”

“Was that… normal?” I asked tentatively.

Gossiping about Graysen felt uncomfortable, but I did feel the need to process.

Yesterday was our first shift together. I really had no clue how typical that level of aggression was.

Maybe his work personality was more intense?

That would be a good thing to know so I could give him a hard time about it.

Being a dick to people who made innocent mistakes wouldn’t be tolerated in my partner.

“Not quite normal , but he’s definitely had his moments.” Her textured claws clicked together against her waist thoughtfully. “He was pretty miserable when we first began working together.”

“How long have you worked together?”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Technically, Graysen worked here before me, but when I started he’d taken a leave of absence.

It must have been five or so years ago. When he returned, everything was touch and go.

He missed shifts, snapped at everybody, started fights, and was clearly neglecting himself.

I thought Theo would fire him, but that never happened.

” She paused, clocking my concerned expression.

“I shouldn’t be telling you this. That was a long time ago.

I don’t think it was an accurate representation of him as a person. ”

“No, of course not,” I said flatly. I had already accepted his past, knowing the unspoken truth would be difficult to learn about over time. Still, the glimpse I’d received yesterday was hard to stomach.

“Graysen is a great guy, Faeryn.” Stella’s small voice was sure. “Go easy on him, he has nothing but good intentions.”

“I know.” I forced a smile. “I’m really glad I have him.”

It'd been awhile since I felt such intense discomfort about Graysen's secret history. As promised, I decided not to care. For all I knew, my past was more checkered than his, lost in a pit of amnesia that I had grown surprisingly accustomed to. But his face—he’d looked at Mr. Donnar, an aging man too drunk to walk upright, like he was going to steal me away.

The intensity of my discomfort was only made worse when I remembered Theo’s foresight.

He knew Graysen would react poorly if something like that happened.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone. The air surrounding me was hot, thick, claustrophobic.

I felt like every person in the building knew more about Graysen than I did.

Not just Mykie, but everyone. I could handle not knowing, but being the only one who didn’t know hurt.

I stood in the shadows of his past with no context for what lurked in the dark.

“Stella, do you mind if I take a break to get some fresh air?” I did my best to appear unbothered, but I could feel the blood had drained from my face.

“Of course.” She rubbed my shoulder with the soft palm of her hand. “Take your time.”

Walking outside at night was significantly more pleasant now that summer had returned.

The streets were less swampy today, most of the melted snow had absorbed into the ground.

That said, there was still a thin layer of water settled between the pebbles of the road that sloshed with every step.

The boots that rose halfway up my shins were caked in mud splatters that just missed hitting my bare knees.

Movement made processing my thoughts easier, allowing me to sort them into digestible truths.

I was alright with Graysen having secrets—he didn’t owe me his past. I was alright with Graysen’s unknown darkness—it was a consequence of trauma, I could understand that.

I was alright with Graysen having a temper—I always felt safe and respected in his presence.

I was not alright with everybody knowing his secrets but me.

I was not alright with an unknown darkness creeping into the life I was trying to establish.

I was not alright with his temper affecting innocent bystanders.

I didn’t regret my decision to love him unconditionally, but I needed to know a little bit more to feel secure in the life I was working so hard to establish. This wasn’t about our love, it was about me . His secrets, his darkness, his temper—I didn’t know the magnitude of their weight on me .

Perhaps when he had tried to draw boundaries between us it hadn’t been because he felt unlovable, or scary, or burdened by his past. Maybe it was to protect me from what still lingered in the present.

As I walked past the closed storefronts of a nearby shopping strip, I heard the faint sound of crying. My feet stopped in their tracks so I could listen without the distraction of my wet footsteps. I faintly made out a call for help.

I picked up my pace into a light jog as I tried to get closer to the noise. “Hello? Are you alright?” I called out hesitantly. It was so quiet in this part of town during the evenings, my voice echoed down the barren market street.

“Help.” Their voice grew louder as I approached a break in storefronts that lead into a dim alleyway. Turning the corner, I saw a dark figure curled up on the ground at the end.

I tried to scan for injuries, but it was too dark to see what the problem was.

“I need help!”

I sprang into action without thinking. This was somebody hurt, alone, scared. I knew how that felt. On a night just like this, Graysen held me in his arms and saved me.

“I’m right here, we’re gonna get you help,” I soothed, bending over and resting a hand on them. “Where are you hurt?” I tried to make out any injuries in the dim lighting, but couldn’t see anything wrong.

They put an arm over my shoulder, sinking significant weight onto me as I awkwardly attempted to pull them to their feet.

Thankfully, the end of the alleyway was a concrete wall with a sturdy door, giving us something hard to lean against during the strain.

I just had to get them up on two feet, and once I could, we’d be back at the pub in a matter of minutes, where more people would be able to help.

I pressed my back into the wall as the injured person faced me and used my shoulders to lift their body.

They were much taller than I expected, or could possibly handle.

Their tunic hood concealed most of their face, but I could spot the fangs hanging over the leathery lower lip of a Lychan. I was sufficiently dwarfed.

“Come on, let’s get you—” A calloused hand clamped over my mouth.

Shit .

Their suffocating weight became malignant, crushing me into the wall as the edge of something sharp and cold pressed into my throat. I didn’t need light to guess what the weapon was.

“Stay quiet or I slit your throat,” its gruff voice growled. “We’re going to step through that door behind you. Do as I say and you won’t be hurt.”

That seemed unlikely. Stepping through that door would only guarantee that nobody passing by could see or hear whatever came next.

My blood ran cold. Was I about to fucking die in an alleyway after all the work I’d done to rebuild my life?

Was Graysen going to find my body mangled and wish he had never let me leave our house? Was anybody going to find my body?

“I said move .” Their lip curled up to reveal a line of teeth as sharp as the dagger pressing against my jugular.

I couldn’t hear myself think over the blood pounding in my head.

“ Fight or flight” , my instincts demanded.

Without thinking, I opened my jaw enough for its firmly pressed fingers to slip between my teeth for a split second, wedging it between my molars and snapping closed with all my vegetarian might.

I barely noticed the Lychan’s shrieks of pain and horror.

All I knew was that I was suddenly free, and I had something that was decidedly not vegetarian floating loosely in my mouth.

I spit out the offending digit, coughing out the blood that had spurted during the amputation.

As soon as I looked back to my attacker, knuckles cracked into my face.

My vision blurred, and a pair of sharp hands grabbed my throat and squeezed.

Unlike Graysen’s cautious claws, the Lychan had no qualms with pressing their elongated nails into my neck while cutting off my airway.

Warmth dripped down both sides of my throat.

Darkness clouded my vision. The blindness in my left eye, where I had been hit, was merging with my right as oxygen became scarce. I had to move, now.

“You stupid fucking battery! I hope you waste away when they get you to the—”

I lifted a knee straight into their groin and took the resulting lapse in their grip to dig both of my fingers knuckle-deep into their eye sockets.

There was a distinct pop as I forced my way through their lens, suppressing a gag as a viscous substance squirted against my palm.

My assailant howled in agony and stumbled back, their hands clawing at their face.

The sound of the knife clattering to the ground called me forward, and I snatched it without thinking, turned on my heels, and sprinted around the corner into the dimly lit streets.