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Everett

“Distractions are deadly.”

Surviving the Unseelie Lands, Author Unknown

S he came back .

Those words pulse like a second heartbeat through my body.

Why did she come back?

And why did she give me a gift?

“Come on, Ever. Give me one,” Maddox whines the moment he climbs out of the saddle and ties his mount to the post.

If he tries to stick his grubby hand in my box one more fucking time, I will cut it clean off.

“The ignorant Seelie clearly does not understand the implications of what she has done,” Gryff points out, tying his reins next to Maddox’s, his own beast snorting and shaking its massive head, just as surly as its owner.

Hearing him call Kerris “ignorant Seelie” makes me want to deck him, yet my fists remain at my sides. “I know that.” If she understood what it meant, she absolutely would not have handed the box to me—to any of us.

But the fact of the matter is, she did .

Now this gift is mine and if anyone else so much as sniffs it, their life is forfeit.

Maddox crosses his arms and props himself up against the hitching post as our steeds lap at the fresh water we added to the trough. Some might think giving animals our immortal water is a waste, and to those people, I say: try to haul the jugs from Rosehill without them.

“What if she does understand?” Maddox taps a finger against his chin as if deep in thought. I almost laugh. The words “deep” and “thought” do not suit him.

For some senseless reason, I find myself hoping that Kerris might have known what this gift means. The female may be Seelie, but surely, she would have been taught at some point what it means to give an unmarried Unseelie a gift of sustenance.

Not that I would consider the box of whatever these are sustenance, but they are almost edible, so I suppose they loosely fit the definition.

Maddox clasps my face between his hands, squishing my cheeks like the elders do to the younglings in camp. “What if she saw this face and fell instantly in love?”

I shove him away, and the bastard uses my distraction to steal the box from my saddle bag.

I sweep my leg, catching him off guard and knocking him flat on his ass. The box skids toward one of the many puddles, but I manage to snag it before the thing gets ruined. Clutching the gift to my chest with one hand, I whip my dagger from my belt with the other, pressing the blade to Maddox’s bobbing gullet. “Touch them again, and I will slit your throat.”

The maddening fool twists his head to shoot Gryffin a grin. “I think you are right, Gryff. There is no way she knew what that gift meant.”

“Fuck you.” He cannot know that. When Gryff chuckles, I turn on him. “Fuck you, too.” They are supposed to be my best friends; they should be trying to help me figure this out instead of making fun of me.

I carry my box to my barrel-top and sink onto the stairs. The flat, round things inside smell strange. When I turn one over, crumbs skitter across my lap.

I take a bite and…

They are exactly as awful as they were at the well. The more I chew, the drier it gets, not to mention it is so sweet my teeth ache. By some miracle, I manage to swallow the chunk down without gagging.

Nyx nudges my shoulder with his muzzle, huffing and snuffling at the box. “You do not want one. Believe me.”

However, the beast is insistent. Maddox’s burst of laughter from whatever he just said to Gryff sets me on edge. Whether Kerris meant them as anything more or not, they were still a gift, and throwing them out is such a waste.

Although I would rather give the things to my mount than any of the other males in the camp.

So I lift the lid once more and hold one out to Nyx.

He takes the thing between his big, flat teeth and grinds them to dust, spilling even more crumbs down my trousers. One after the other, I feed them to him until they are gone, and then he goes back to the patch of grass between my home and Maddox’s.

Maddox meanders over, flopping himself onto my bottom step and giving my knee a nudge. “All jokes aside, can I at least try one?”

“They are gone.”

“Liar.”

I show him the empty box.

“You are some bastard, you know that?” His scowl is short-lived, replaced by a glint in his eyes. “What is Leah Locke going to say when she finds out another female cooked for you?”

I had not thought about that.

If I am being honest, I have not thought about Leah since the moment I heard Kerris’s name. I fiddle with the hilt of my dagger, this close to ramming the blade into his thigh. Would serve him right for sticking his nose where it does not belong. “Who is going to tell her?”

“Everett Gathin!” A woman’s shriek pierces the overcast sky.

Maddox chuckles darkly, leaning back with his hands clasped behind his head like the fool he is. “Sounds like someone already did.”

Never one to run from a fight, I toss the empty box into my house and prepare for the inevitable argument. If I ever find out who told Leah, he is going to regret the day he was born.

Leah stalks down the lane, the bottom of her brown skirt sweeping across the muck. She looks fearsome, with her short, straight hair the color of a midnight sky swinging against her sharp cheekbones.

“What is this I hear about some Seelie bitch baking for you?” she snarls, coming to a stop at my bottom step, her dark eyes alight with fury.

“Leah…”

“Do not ‘Leah’ me, you lying, cheating prick.”

I might be a prick, but I neither lied nor cheated. “You and I are not engaged.”

Her nostrils flare, and her ears darken with anger. “You think I want to be reminded that you still have not accepted my proposal? I gave you that jerky three weeks ago!”

I push to my feet and offer her my hand. “Come with me.” There is no need to have this conversation where everyone and their brother can hear.

The problem with living in such close quarters to one another is that there is never any privacy.

Refusing my hand, she stalks ahead of me to the forest’s edge. When she turns her back to the trees, fury paints every plane of her sharp features.

Leah knows as well as I do that what lives within these woods could tear her to shreds, and turning her back is akin to a death sentence.

What the beasts of the forest do not realize is, Leah Locke is more lethal than all of them put together. And right now, she wants my head on a pike.

“This is not about the Seelie, is it?” I venture.

Her chin lifts. “Of course it is about the cursed Seelie. I demand you tell me her name so that I can cut her from ear to ear. Give her a pretty, new smile.”

The thought of Leah getting her hands on soft, sweet Kerris floods my stomach with icy dread. She might claim this is about the gift, but I would wager my best cooking pot that she is lying. “I am sorry I have not given you an answer yet.”

“Then soothe my ire by giving me one now.”

Leah might be the only female in our clan who sees me as something more than the son of the village pariah, but I would rather remain single forever than be tied to a woman whose temper rivals Gryffin’s.

For some reason, she set her sights on me when we were ten years old and has not swayed since.

When I do not respond, she huffs out a breath. “Is this because of Robyn? Dammit. I told you I was sorry.”

“You stabbed her.” It is not me she should be apologizing to. If we had not had the water on hand to heal her, Robyn very well could have bled out and died.

If Leah’s father was not the chieftain, she would have been exiled instead of being forced into laundry duty for six months.

“Because she brought you those almonds.”

“Almonds I gave to the elders. As I said before, I did not reciprocate.” Even if I did, it would have been my prerogative. “You and I are friends, Leah. Nothing more.”

Leah takes a menacing step forward. “I see. And do you bed all your friends? Is that why Maddox and Gryffin are so loyal to you?”

“You know what I mean. You deserve better than me.” Everyone deserves better than me.

“Maybe I do. But I want you, Everett Gathin.” Her hands meet my chest, rough from countless hours churning butter and curing hides. “Think of all the good we can do for the clan. Think of the strong home we can build.”

With only ten females of marriageable age in our clan and more than thirty males, it is an honor to be chosen. Yet the thought of marrying Leah eats away at me, which is why, when she moves closer, I step back in retreat.

The coy smile on her lips matches her honeyed tone. “Give me the night to convince you?”

For a moment, I consider letting Leah back into my bed; consider getting lost in her for the night. But then morning would come, and I still would not have an answer for her.

We would be right back where we are now, except maybe it would be a little worse, because, for those few hours, I know she would be dreaming of our mating ceremony.

So instead of giving in, I tell her, “Not tonight,” and leave her to her rage.

* * *

Every time I close my eyes, I am haunted by visions of a woman with hair the color of a lilac bloom and eyes the shade of clover. There is no sense wasting away abed when sleep alludes me, so I dress and head back to the forest, hoping something emerges that I can kill.

Foolish on my own? Undoubtedly.

But it is a risk I am willing to take.

Our first hunt cannot come soon enough.

We will be gone most of the summer, returning in the fall with enough to feed our people through the harsh winters that only seem to affect this side of the canyon.

Instead of taking the path pitted with footprints leading north, I follow the southern trail that curves deeper into the heart of the woods. The trees creak and groan and moss swallows the base of every trunk, silencing my footfalls.

With my dagger in my grip, I venture farther than I normally would, down to where the river meets the silty bank. A few years ago, I would not have been brave enough to go this far without the others, but tonight I feel reckless.

Restless.

Haunted .

Across the lazy water, silver strips of moonlight fall upon a glen. I am about to turn away when something small and iridescent catches my eye. If I did not know any better, I would say it was a flower, but flowers do not bloom in our forest.

Flowers need sunlight to survive, and this land of shadows has too little. My father used to say the Seelie stole it from us, but he was as bitter as he was cross, so I imagine he was full of shite.

The icy water barely registers as I step into the river, crossing the slippery stones carefully until I reach the far shore.

Not only are they flowers, but also, they are as silver as the buckle on my belt.

The urge to kill fades as I kneel to pluck one by the stem, carrying it back with me to camp.

I should probably give the bloom to Leah as an apology for making her wait so long for an answer. But that would be an answer in and of itself.

For once a meal is offered, the male accepts with a gift of his own.

Maybe Leah is right in demanding our union. She is a strong female, the fiercest in our clan. Maybe I should give her what she wants. It is not as if anyone else will be lining up to mate with me after she stabbed Robyn. I have a duty to our people, to the Unseelie, to bring offspring into this cruel world, lest our line be eradicated.

The longer I stare at the flower, the more my chest aches.

Leah would not appreciate the gesture, only the outcome.

Would Kerris think this flower is beautiful?

Probably not considering it is as devoid of color as everything else this side of the bridge.

What if she understood?

Maddox’s teasing comment from earlier drifts through my mind.

What if Kerris did give me that box for a reason? It seems impossible, but still, I wonder…

* * *

Before my destination registers, I am already mounted on Nyx and riding along the trail of bones toward the bridge where River and Rynan have taken first watch.

I dismount without a word, tying Nyx to the post furthest from the fire pit.

The men leap to their feet, exchanging worried glances. I pay them no mind and head straight for the bridge.

“Where are you going, Everett?” one calls.

All it takes is a glower to shut him up.

I do not answer to them. I do not answer to anyone but our chieftain.

Seeing as he is not here right now, I am free to cross the bridge into Seelie territory. The journey takes me twenty minutes, but eventually the house where I last saw Kerris comes into view.

The flower still clutched in my fist looks so small and insignificant in light of the finery of her home, I almost turn around. But something in my foolish heart urges me to leave the gift on her stoop. I wish I could be here when she finds it just to see her face.

Will it make her smile? Will she know it is from me?

Such whimsical thoughts. How in the world would she know the gift came from me? She does not even know my name.

What was I thinking? This was a fool’s errand.

I am about to retrieve my gift when there is a clang from inside. Somewhere close by, a cat lets out a low mewl.

With my heart in my throat, I sprint all the way back to the canyon, feeling like the biggest fool who has ever lived.