Page 5 of The Enemy to the Living (The Wild Hunt #2)

Quinn

I make it back to my flat without anyone noticing—or, worse, popping their heads out to see who’s wandering by—and let out a sigh of relief when I lock my door. Asher didn’t follow me, thank fuck, though I’m not sure he’ll keep the fact that he saw me to himself.

Shaking my head, I wander into the bathroom and turn on the shower before I strip. No blood on me this time at least, considering our fight was cut short, but I still need to wash away the scents of the pub in case I run into Drew or Dax.

They must have already noticed something. There’s no way Sam can’t know. I appreciate his discretion all the same.

Maybe Asher won’t say anything. Maybe he’s already called Deacon. I step under the spray and squeeze my eyes shut. If he has, then Deacon will have called Kieran in, I think. They’ll talk about me without me there, like they did with Augustine, with the whole challenge.

I clench my jaw until my teeth hurt, then squeeze shampoo into my palms. Every stroke of my fingers over my scalp is measured and deliberate, the pressure even. If I can focus on what I’m doing, then my mind doesn’t run away from me.

That only lasts so long. When I’m soaping myself down, my thoughts spiral again—this time, about the ruined fight, whether it counts towards the ten I owe the twins or whether I’ve already broken the terms of our agreement, what might have happened if I won, if I lost, if Asher had chased me, if Asher has spoken to Maurice, if Kieran is on his way to throw me out of the pack, if I have to go back up north, if, if, if…

The mirror’s steamed up when I step in front of it, so I can’t see my expression. Good thing, too. My head feels full, mood beginning to sink. It’s partly the adrenaline; objectively, I know that. The fight, then running… I’m ready to crash, only crashing has been almost dangerous recently.

I hear a tentative knock at the door when I leave the bathroom, dressed in pyjama bottoms and a loose, grey T-shirt. It’s one of Drew’s, the one he gave me to sleep in when they first brought me here. I tug on the hem of it before I cross the living room.

A deep breath brings me my visitor’s scent and makes my heartbeat spike at the same time. Kieran. Could Asher have moved that quickly? I don’t think Deacon would have called Kieran about this, not if the Wild Hunt are involved in the whole thing.

Kieran knocks again. He knows I’m standing here, probably. Even without a wolf, he’s observant.

I unlock and open the door, unsurprised to be hit with his easy smile. The concern lies in his eyes; it’s hard for him to hide it, once a person knows what to look for. I’ve been friends with Drew since we were babies. I’ve known Kieran my entire life. Sure, he left, but I knew him once.

“Hey. Was wondering if you wanted to come and eat with us?”

I frown. It’s already past ten, so Drew will be in bed—he has to work tomorrow. “You haven’t eaten?”

“Drew and the others did,” Kieran says, waving a careless hand.

“Lucien and I were trying to get some stuff together about the new fae Maurice introduced us to and I lost track of time.” The smile he gives me this time is guilty and the first genuine one that’s been aimed at me for a while. “So I’m eating. If you wanna join.”

I do. I really do want this pack to be my home. There’s nothing that could get me back up north again—in the end, they sent down the things I asked for, and they’ve packed up the rest, left it in the house I used to live in with my parents.

Pain strikes my heart, devastating in its accuracy. I told the pack I don’t want the house. It doesn’t matter. The documents are legal, human legal, which means I’ll have to get a solicitor and go to a bank and sort it all out.

Not to mention, I’m not exactly the pack’s biggest priority right now. The house sitting empty for a few years will mean nothing. They all have to heal, too.

I know that better than anyone.

Kieran clears his throat and I realise he’s been waiting for my answer. I drop my eyes on instinct, fear prickling like bugs over my skin. I can’t go in there. I can’t face them all, not tonight. What if they figure out what I’ve done? What if Asher does go to Deacon and he calls while I’m there?

What if they realise I can’t shift?

“I…” I shake my head. “I ate. Already. I’m gonna sleep.”

Kieran is silent for too long. I glance up, and his expression hasn’t changed, but he’s studying me like he really can read every secret I’m keeping on my face.

“Fine,” he says eventually, with a little frown. “I’ll let you off tonight, since it would only be the three of us. But Drew misses you, you know. I expect to see you at least once this week.”

One dinner. I can do that. It’s not like I never hang out with the rest of the pack; only, since I started the fights, it’s become harder to spend time with them and pretend there’s not another thing I’m not telling them.

“I’ll be there.”

Kieran nods, and when he steps in closer, watching me carefully, I let him. Some of the anxious tension in my chest loosens when he slides a hand around the back of my neck and squeezes tightly. Not quite maybe it’ll all be okay , but at least I might eventually fall asleep tonight.

“We all miss you, Quinn,” he murmurs, tapping his forehead lightly against mine. I huff at the pain and Kieran’s grin is lightning-quick. “And I don’t want to seem like I’m nagging you. We just want to spend time with you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He squeezes again before he leaves, and once I’ve locked the door, I rest my head against it. For a few moments, standing there in my silent, empty flat, I consider following him anyway. Kieran wouldn’t mind that I already said no.

I shiver. Except, even being around the lot of them—noisy and vibrant as they are—won’t stop my mind from reeling back to the twins and what happened tonight. It won’t stop me from dwelling on the fact that I don’t know if that fight counted or if I’ve just lost my wolf.

I push away from the door and head into my bedroom. Bed. Sleep. Or maybe lying there staring at the ceiling until I inevitably pass out from exhaustion, but it has to be better than standing by the door wishing for things to be different.

My stomach turns when I pull the duvet over me, nightmares pooling in the dark shadows of the room.

That’s another reason not to sleep, of course.

Sleep pauses the anxiety, or at least gives it a different form, but the nightmares, the memories…

I can push them aside during the day, for the most part.

Their domain is here, in the dark, and after everything that’s happened today, tonight promises to be restless.

I snarl and punch my pillow into a more comfortable position, thinking about Drew before I close my eyes. He misses me? I miss him, even if that feeling is more complicated now than it ever was before he left.

Maybe I’ll go see him at work tomorrow. Getting out of this building, getting some sun, might be good for me.

Sleep mostly eludes me, nightmares leaving me gasping and shaking and sweating under the duvet, but I still feel a bit more optimistic as I head in the direction of Hallowed Grounds the next morning.

I’ve not sent Drew a text to let him know I’m coming, but he doesn’t finish for another hour, so I figure I can get a coffee and wait for him to be done.

I’ve not heard anything from the twins. With the sun overhead, it’s easier to worry less about it. Surely they’d have been in touch by now if that fight ending abruptly had cost me my wolf.

Besides, they said they’d be fair. They can’t lie. No one could possibly think that’s fair.

And Kieran hasn’t been by to talk to me again, which means that Asher maybe did keep seeing me at a fight to himself. Maybe that’s what Sorrel and Celyn are dealing with. Will we have to move? I don’t know about any other fae hotspots in London, but maybe I can ask Sparrow the next time I see them.

Someone falls into step beside me, derailing my train of thought. I glance over and come to an abrupt stop when Asher smiles back at me.

“I’m not here to scare you,” he says.

The street is busy. If I run, I’ll only attract attention, and that’s exactly what I don’t want. Asher knows it, too. He must have been following me since I left our pack house—there’s no way he came across me by chance.

But why didn’t I sense him? I can smell him now, close as we are, and although I can’t feel magic, I don’t think he’s suppressing his scent. I take a deep breath. No, I can smell him. There’s an honest edge to his scent, an earnestness that surprises me.

Only for a second, though, as I realise, with mounting horror, just how much my senses have weakened over the past few months. Anyone could sneak up on me if I’m not paying attention. Fuck.

“I’m meeting someone,” I say. People move around us like we’re a pair of rocks in a gentle stream. “I have to go.”

“Who?”

“What?”

“Who are you meeting?”

I stare at him. Will he let me go? I can’t fight him. I won’t win, for one thing, but I also think that’s something he really would tell Deacon about.

“Drew.”

Asher frowns, looking up and down the street. “He’s at work?”

“Yeah.”

“And when does he finish?”

I press my lips tightly together, but Asher just looks at me, apparently having all the time in the world to wait for me to give in. He probably does have plenty of time. I’m the one who just admitted they were on a deadline.

I could lie. I could tell him that Drew’s already waiting.

“In an hour.”

“Can we talk now, then? I promise you’ll be with him before he’s done.”

Promise. It’s a heavy word for him to throw out there so easily, but when I look at him, I think he means it. I tug nervously at my shirt and nod. “Yeah, okay. Here?”

“No,” Asher says and offers me another smile that I don’t return. “Come on. There’s somewhere we can go.”