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I t didn’t take long for Daisy to pack up her life.

She’d had her large travelling satchel stashed by the door, and into it she stuffed her grubby cloak, a waterskin, some fruit, and some clothes she’d had drying by the window — and on top, a large sheaf of paper, and some pencils. All the while not thinking, not letting her brain linger on what she was doing, this wasn’t a bad idea, it wasn’t. It was an opportunity. An escape. Exactly what she’d desperately needed.

She could feel Filak watching her, the satisfaction almost radiating off his lean unmoving body. And when she shot him a brief look under her lashes, he was almost smiling at her, his hard mouth gone soft and approving, his eyes gleaming in the dark.

But then his gaze purposely angled toward the bedroom, and his black talons drummed on one of the scattered sheets of paper on the table. On a failed sketch of the cascabela , and Daisy blinked at it, and then at his face. He wasn’t suggesting — what? That she take her sketches? That she keep working on Lew’s project? Maybe even… maybe even publish it herself?

Something flipped in her belly, something between hope and terror — of course she couldn’t do such a thing, she was only Lew’s illustrator — and Filak’s head tilted, his smile slightly fading, as he tapped on the paper again, and then jabbed his claw toward Lew’s bedroom. As if…

Oh. He wanted Daisy to write a note . To tell Lew she was leaving, so he didn’t run off and mount some kind of frantic search for her.

And yes, that made sense, of course, and Daisy shoved down the strange disappointment as she flipped the paper over, and scribbled a note across the back.

Sorry, Lew , but I’m leaving for good, and going home to the city. I’m not interested in existing to serve you anymore, while you save your affections and your secrets for other people. Goodbye .

She should have written something about the apartment back in the city, or about her possessions, her finished drawings, whatever payments should still be hers — but suddenly it was all too overwhelming, too alarming to even consider. She was leaving everything, her career, her art, her life , to run off alone with an orc. With this orc. The orc who’d trapped her in a cave and destroyed her ring and drawn a sun on her without permission, and — and —

She drew in a bracing breath, and glanced again toward Filak’s face. Needing his certainty, his reassurance, his soft, approving smile. Or maybe even his warm steady touch, his murmurs of sólin mín —

But this time, Filak wasn’t looking at her. Instead , he was still studying the papers on the table. Her papers, her drawings of the cascabela , and several other plants for Lew’s next book. Abrus precatorius, Aconitum napellus, Atropa belladonna . And Filak seemed strangely intent as he looked, his long claws lightly tracing over the belladonna’s bell-shaped flowers, and then skittering sideways to the next drawing, the Ricinus communis .

“ Hvae er tetta ?” he asked, his voice sudden and curt, his claws tapping hard at the ricinus ’ spiny seed capsules. “ Ert tú mee tetta hér ?”

Daisy blinked uneasily toward him — he wanted to know more about the ricinus ? But Filak’s eyes on hers were unblinking, demanding, his lip slightly curling — so she attempted a shrug, and lurched over to the nearby counter, where Lew kept his boxes of pressed specimens. The specimens were all stored carefully in folded paper, labelled in Lew’s familiar neat script, and yes, here was the ricinus , right on top. And Daisy jumped at the sight of Filak’s clawed hand, flipping the paper open, revealing the ricinus ’ flattened leaves and capsules beneath.

“ átt tú tetta ?” he asked, his eyes suddenly hard and narrow on hers. “ Afhverju ?”

Daisy’s heart skipped, and she shook her head, and shoved the specimen back into the box with slightly trembling hands. “ It’s just a plant,” she said, though her voice wavered, too. “ For Lew’s research. His next book.”

She nodded down toward Lew’s ever-present notebook, which he’d left lying nearby on the counter, and Filak’s nostrils flared as he snatched it up, and began flipping through pages. Almost as if he could read them, but of course he couldn’t, right? Not even Daisy could understand Lew’s notes, and gods knew she’d surreptitiously tried, especially when it had come to this top-secret project. But Lew’s notes were full of his own messy shorthand, with random calculations and coordinates, and it was only the sketches that made sense to Daisy , far rougher and messier than her own.

But Filak’s eyes went narrower and narrower as he read, and his jaw spasmed as he halted on a page full of incomprehensible calculations and sketches. One of which was a ricinus seed, and Filak’s claw settled purposefully on the seed, and then on the unintelligible scrawl of notes beside it. Notes that extended onto the next page, and the next, and Filak’s claw twitched as he turned the pages faster and faster, and a low, steady growl hissed from his throat.

And when his eyes finally snapped back to Daisy’s , there was something strange in them. Something disbelieving, something menacing, something… wrong. Something that flashed her flailing thoughts back to that moment when he’d crushed her diamond in his claws, and collapsed the tunnel between them…

An icy chill wrenched up Daisy’s back, and she took an unsteady step backward, her hand gripping tight at the heavy packed satchel still slung over her shoulder. “ What ?” she said, her voice wavering. “ It’s just a notebook. That’s all.”

But Filak was still growling, his lips now pulled back to show all his sharp teeth. And his lean body twitched, enough to jerk the notebook in his hand, while his eyes flashed with more menace, more disbelief, more… rage?

Daisy staggered another step backwards, and her heartbeat was suddenly far too loud, drumming in her ears. “ Um ,” she said thickly. “ Y -you know, actually, maybe it would be better to… to…”

She dragged in a desperate, hitching breath, because she wasn’t — refusing. Second -guessing. Was she? She knew Filak was like this, she knew he was chaotic and impulsive and unpredictable… right? And she’d still meant to run off with him anyway, to follow the hope and the dream, but…

But gods, the way he kept looking at her. Not only with that strange blazing anger, but with disgust, and contempt. And he again swept up the drawing, her drawing — he’d still had the drawing? — and stabbed his claw at the spiky cluster of seed capsules.

“ átt tú tetta ,” he hissed, as the claw swivelled toward her. “ Ach , Daisy ?”

He was asking if she’d drawn it, surely, and Daisy warily nodded, even as her heartbeat thumped harder in her chest. He wasn’t angry at her over a drawing, surely, but what else could it be? What else could he mean? And his claws extended out even longer, somehow, glinting with alarming brightness in the faint moonlight, just like his sharp bared teeth…

“ Nei ,” he snarled, his eyes flashing on hers. “ Nei , Daisy .”

What? Daisy stumbled another step backwards, nearly staggering into the table, and almost dropping her satchel. What did he mean? What was he doing? What did he want her to say, to do?

He spoke again, swift and unintelligible, jabbing his claw at the drawing again, but of course it meant nothing, and Daisy’s head was shaking, her breath catching in her throat. “ I — I don’t know what you mean,” she stammered. “ P -please, Filak .”

But he just kept speaking, faster and louder, and gods he was going to wake Lew up, and maybe — maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing, would it? And Daisy even shot a helpless glance toward Lew’s bedroom, as her heartbeat thundered even louder, and something stung behind her eyes. It didn’t make sense, it was supposed to be an escape, hope and excitement and freedom…

And instead, it was just more of — of this. More fear and confusion, more words Daisy couldn’t follow. Using her art, lying to her, collapsing the tunnel, crushing her diamond, marking her with his sun…

But Filak just kept talking, waving wildly at the notebook’s open page, and Daisy dragged in a deep breath, and ventured a small step sideways. Toward Lew’s room, oh gods, and was she really choosing Lew over this, maybe she was, her mouth opening, about to —

Filak flashed toward her in a blaze of white, a flare of claws and limbs and rage — and suddenly a hot hand clamped over her mouth, a sharp claw jabbing into the soft meat of her throat. Not gentle this time, not teasing or tantalizing, but hard and fierce and aggressive, as if —

As if Filak wanted to hurt her. As if he wanted to kill her.

“ Nei ,” he spat, his teeth still bared, his eyes deep black hollows, full of menace and hatred. “ Nei . Komdu nú .”

And with a powerful, painful yank at her arm, he wrenched Daisy bodily toward the door. So fast she couldn’t refuse, couldn’t resist, couldn’t even think —

Until the apartment door thudded shut behind them, and Filak hauled her out into the darkness.