Page 20

“Torion told me about the picture,” Peri said matter-of-factly.

That was how Peri operated—direct and to the point.

She didn’t really give two shits one way or the other if it wasn’t her business.

Myanin had learned in her time around the high fae that she pretty much thought everything was her business.

Myanin didn’t respond. Maybe if she ignored her, Peri would get bored and go bother someone else. There’s a first time for everything.

No such luck.

“Let’s see it.” Peri held out her hand expectantly.

“It’s not your business, Perizada. As hard as that might be for you to understand,” Myanin said, finally glancing at her. “You can take your nosy, fae fingers and keep them to yourself.”

Peri chuckled, not the least bit deterred.

“You know, I’ve been called a lot of things in my very long life, but ‘nosy, fae fingers’ is a new one.

I think I like it. And everything that has to do with everyone in my immediate vicinity is my business.

Oh look, here you are right next to me, so that makes it doubly my business. ”

“I can move.” Myanin muttered and turned her gaze back to the darkness.

Peri leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a tone that was both coaxing and unrelenting. “Look, I’m not trying to pry?—”

“You’re literally prying. There is no trying. You are .” Myanin shot Peri an exasperated look.

“Fine.” Peri shrugged. “I’m prying. But, again, it’s my job to pry. It’s my job to know what’s going on with my people, and like it or not, you are one of my people. At least until I can give you back to Lilly, then you can be her problem, I mean, people again.”

Myanin clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening around the crumpled paper. “This doesn’t affect anyone but me.”

Peri raised a brow, her peridot eyes narrowing.

“That’s where you’re wrong. Whatever’s got you looking like you’ve seen a ghost from the past clearly has you rattled, and a rattled Myanin is not something we can afford right now.

A rattled Myanin is even more unpredictable than Batshit-Crazy Myanin.

And Batshit Myanin is a piece of work. So now I’m not going to ask.

Give me the damn drawing, or I’ll zap your ass.

You’ve known me long enough to know how zappy I am. ”

Myanin hesitated, her instincts warring with her better judgment.

She didn’t want Peri to see it, didn’t want to open that door any wider than it already was.

She didn’t want anyone to see any emotions that had been tied to someone before Gerick.

She already felt like she was betraying him.

But she also knew Peri well enough to know the woman wouldn’t let it go.

The fae was like a dog with a bone—relentless, stubborn, and impossible to shake off once she’d latched onto something.

With a heavy sigh, Myanin smoothed the paper and handed it over. “Fine. But if you make any snide comments, I’m shoving you off this cliff.”

“Noted.” Peri took the drawing with a flicker of amusement in her eyes. The amusement faded quickly as she studied the image, her expression changing into something far more serious.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Peri murmured, her gaze lingering on the shadowy figure. “I recognize who this is.”

Myanin stiffened, her stomach twisting. “No, you don’t.” She heard the petulant child in her voice that made it clear that she didn’t like the idea of Peri knowing him.

Peri’s eyes snapped to hers, a cunning gleam in their depths. “It’s Shade, isn’t it? He’s a very well-known djinn warrior.”

The way she said his name, so casually and yet so certain, made Myanin’s chest tighten. She wanted to deny it, to tell Peri she was wrong, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she looked away, her silence speaking volumes.

“Thought so.” Peri’s folded the paper neatly and handed it back. “Care to explain why seeing him has you acting like a cat who’s been tossed into a bath?”

“How many different ways do I have to say this is not your business?” Myanin shoved the drawing into her pocket.

“And how many times do I have to remind you that short of what happens in the bedrooms with you mated pairs, everything is my business, especially if this male is showing up in your future. That means it will more than likely affect the rest of us. Unless you plan to run off on your own and leave the rest of us behind,” Peri shot back, crossing her arms. “You don’t get to brush this off, Myanin. Not when it’s clearly a big deal.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Myanin snapped. “He’s just … someone I used to know.”

Peri tilted her head, her gaze piercing.

“Again, I’m calling bullshit. This male is more than just someone you used to know.

Shade is someone who obviously left his mark on you.

Perhaps you haven’t thought of him in a very long time, maybe you even forced yourself to forget him.

Yes, you have a mate now, but that could be making this even worse.

Whatever Shade is to you, he is not nothing. So try again.”

Myanin let out a bitter laugh, standing abruptly and pacing a few steps away. “How has nobody taken you out yet? You’re annoying as hell. You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“Oh, believe me, they’ve tried. But I’m like a cockroach.

I simply refuse to die. And I don’t quit on anyone who I think is worth my time.

Despite your jacked-up past, you’re worth my time.

You’ve proven yourself, and others have come to care for you.

Therefore, I’ve got your back. And this?

This feels important to you, and that means it’s important to me. So spill.”

Myanin stopped, her back to Peri, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

She felt the weight of the fae’s gaze, the unrelenting pressure of her presence, and for a moment, she thought about telling her everything.

About the memories that wouldn’t stop haunting her, about the way Shade had once made her feel alive and terrified all at once, about the mistakes she’d made that had driven him away.

But she couldn’t. It was too raw, too painful. And Peri, for all her wisdom and wit, wouldn’t understand. “He’s dangerous. That’s really all you need to know.”

Looking at the paper in her hands, Peri hummed in what Myanin hoped was agreement. “Dangerous, indeed, but I have a feeling that’s not what this drawing is depicting. There’s something in his gaze that looks like whatever is between you isn’t over.”

Myanin’s body went rigid at Peri’s words, but she kept her back turned, staring into the darkness beyond the cave. Her jaw clenched so tightly it ached, and her hands fisted at her sides as though she could crush the memories clawing at the edges of her mind.

“It’s over. For me, it’s been over for centuries. Though whatever you think you see in his eyes, it’s obsession and nothing more. As far as I’m concerned, Shade and I have nothing left between us.”

Peri’s peridot eyes narrowed, her sharp gaze cutting through the firelight like a blade.

“You can tell yourself that if it helps you sleep at night, but don’t try to sell me that load of crap.

I’ve lived far too long and seen far too much to believe it.

There’s something there, Myanin. Maybe it’s not love, maybe it’s not even anything you want , but whatever it is, it’s not dead. You’re too rattled for it to be dead.”

Furious, Myanin whirled on Peri. “You don’t know anything about what’s between me and Shade!

” she snapped. “And even if there was something, it doesn’t matter.

He doesn’t care about me. He doesn’t care about you or anyone else in this world.

He’s a djinn, Peri, through and through.

You know what that means? He cares about his people and his people alone.

Humans? Wolves? Healers? Witches? You, with your ancient fae wisdom?

None of it matters to him. The only thing that matters to Shade is the djinn and the race's survival.”

Peri didn’t flinch under Myanin’s outburst. She simply stood there, her expression unreadable. “You say that like you aren’t a djinn anymore.”

Myanin let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through her hair as she turned away again.

“I’m not. I’m Gerick’s mate, I’m Tenia’s friend and the bane of Lilly’s existence.

I’m loyal to those who have given me a second chance.

I walked away from my people, and though I may regret things I’ve done, I don’t regret what it led me to.

” A shaky breath expelled from her lungs.

“He’s not like the rest of us, Peri. He doesn’t fight for some greater good.

He doesn’t care about balance or peace or whether Celise’s war tears this world apart.

The only reason he’d ever get involved is if it directly affected the djinn.

He’s old, powerful, and respected—hell, revered even—among his people.

If Shade decides to move, others will follow, whether they agree with him or not. That’s the kind of influence he has.”

The fire crackled between Myanin and Peri, its light flickering across the cave walls, but Peri didn’t respond. She simply tilted her head, her gaze thoughtful.

“And why would he move now?” Peri probed. “Why would he come after you?”

Myanin laughed again, but it was a hollow, bitter sound that scraped against the walls of the cave.

She stared into the flames, her expression hard as stone.

“Because he doesn’t think we’re through.

Because he made me a promise—a long time ago, when I thought he’d finally let me go.

” Her voice dropped, her words heavy with an edge of something that wasn’t quite fear but wasn’t far from it.

“He told me I was his. That I’d always be his.

And that he’d go through anything—and anyone—to get to me.

It wasn’t a declaration of love, Peri. It was a statement of fact.

A threat. And if he’s following me now, it means he’s decided to make good on it. ”

The cave fell into a heavy silence, the weight of Myanin’s words lingering in the air like smoke.

She didn’t look at Peri, didn’t want to see whatever expression the fae might wear.

Pity, judgment, understanding—it didn’t matter.

None of it would change the fact that Shade was out there, and that he wouldn’t care who he had to hurt to get to her.

After a moment, Myanin spoke. “He doesn’t have feelings for me.

” Her voice was soft but no less bitter.

“No matter what he thinks. Whatever we had—whatever history we share—it wasn’t about love.

It took me a while to see it. But once I did, I understood it was about power.

Control. He saw something in me—something he thought he could claim.

And for a while, I thought that’s what I wanted.

That’s on me. But I’m not the same person I was then.

I was young. I wanted to be loved. When I realized that Shade was keeping me on a yo-yo, pulling me in and pushing me back claiming I was too young for him at that time, I turned my feelings to Thad.

And thought that I loved him. And maybe I did.

But none of those feelings for either male compares to what I feel for Gerick.

I won’t let Shade pull me back into his game. Not now. Not ever.”

Peri was quiet for a long moment, her verdant eyes steady on Myanin’s face. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer than Myanin had ever heard it. “I’m sorry.”

Myanin blinked, startled, by Peri’s uncharacteristically vulnerable expression. Her sharp edges softened in a way that made Myanin’s chest tighten.

“For what?” Myanin asked cautiously.

“For whatever he did to you,” Peri said simply.

“For whatever he made you feel, or believe, or endure. I’ve lived a long time, Myanin, and I’ve seen what power—real or imagined—can do to people.

It can build them up, or it can break them down.

And it sounds like Shade left you with more scars than anything else. ”

Myanin swallowed hard, her throat tight. She looked away, her fingers toying with the hilt of her blade. “I don’t need your pity, Peri.”

“It’s not pity.” Peri’s voice was firm. “It’s respect.

For what you’ve been through and for the fact that you’ve managed to come out on the other side of it.

You’re stronger than you think, Myanin. Stronger than he ever gave you credit for.

And whether or not Shade shows up, whether or not he keeps that promise he made, you’re not alone in this.

You’ve got people now—people who will stand by you, fight for you, even when you don’t think you deserve it. ”

Myanin didn’t respond. She couldn’t. The lump in her throat was too big, the emotions too raw. She didn’t want to feel this, didn’t want to let herself hope that Peri’s words might actually be true.

But when Peri reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, her touch light but steady, Myanin didn’t pull away.

“Thank you,” Peri said quietly, her voice filled with a rare sincerity. “For being willing to talk about something that’s obviously painful for you. I know it wasn’t easy. But it matters. You matter.”

And with that, Peri stepped back, leaving Myanin alone with the fire and the shadows of her past.