Page 69

Jack

T he taste of Sav’s lips lingered, burned into my memory like a brand. Her soft moan, the way she melted against me—I’d never forget it. But just because that kiss had changed something in me didn’t mean anything had changed for her.

“Jack.” I blinked, gaze moving from the strands of auburn hair falling over Sav’s face to General Creig.

“Yes?” They were all staring at me and I cleared my throat. “I’ll enter beside Central Park and call Dane. I’ll tell him to meet me near Turtle Pond.”

“And what’s your plan for the Bitter Wraith?” Creig folded his arms over a barrage of weapons strapped to his chest. In his battle paint and war gear, he was a fearsome sight.

“I’ll offer her the fairy marigolds.”

“Fae marigold blossoms,” Creig corrected.

“Right.” I kept forgetting that only humans called them fairies. They referred to themselves as fae. I must have sounded so ignorant to them all. Why had Sav never said anything?

My gaze drifted to her once more. She whispered something to Lord Hawthorn, pointing to a map and he nodded.

His finger traced the path hers had taken and when their hands brushed against one another, heat simmered in my veins.

Of all the men I’d encountered in Sav’s life, he was the only one who hadn’t staked some claim on her.

Why did that seem to make him the most dangerous?

My thoughts turned dark when Prince Kaspar’s aquamarine gaze, watching her with a cold possessiveness, flashed in my mind.

“And if she rejects your gift?” General Creig prompted.

My focus shifted with some effort back to the general. “I’ll leave Turtle Pond and follow the path away from the AFF compound toward Times Square.”

General Creig leveled me with a heavy stare. “Remember. You want him to bring as many of his men with him as possible. Tell him exactly what I said.”

I nodded. Dane was no one’s fool. But his hate for the fae would twist his judgment. When I dangled an orc general in front of him, he would stop at nothing to have him and that’s exactly what our group was counting on.

We left the war room, Creig heading our party. His twin sons came next, followed by two more large orcs with just as many weapons strapped over their bodies as the others. The quintet towered over all of us, looking menacing as they crowded into the hall.

I fell back—beside Sav—and glanced over at her.

She had changed into tan leather pants and a matching vest lined with rows of knives.

I’d thought I chose wisely when I strapped half a dozen knives to my new fae belt, but she was sporting at least fifty and as my gaze shifted to the backs of the orcs leading the way, I suddenly felt woefully unprepared.

Sav’s fingers found mine, lacing them together and she squeezed.

The small act sent a rush of desire through me.

To say I had been devastated when her confession had fallen so callously from her lips would have been an understatement, but in the hall, watching her struggle to form the words I’d so desperately hoped she felt, I knew she was scared.

It wasn’t a cold heart that made her push people away.

It was a wounded one. She had been used over and over again in her life and built a wall around her heart to protect herself.

In that moment, I saw who she truly was. She cared deeply and it terrified her.

She stopped short, pulling her hand free. My heart thudded—was this where the act ended?

But when she looked up, I knew. There would be no more pretending between us.

“What’s wrong?”

She tugged a stray curl from her long braid, wrapping it around her finger, and bit her lower lip. “I don’t want to say it, but I’m just going to, because too much is on the line.”

I reached for her hand, but she pulled it back and my stomach hollowed out. She exhaled a long sigh. “If your father captures you, he’ll want to know how to get into Faerie. He could hurt you to get that information.”

I flinched. “He wouldn’t.” She stared, unblinking. And I was forced to accept that she may be right. I wanted to argue, memories of father son basketball games and bedtime stories resurfacing in my mind, but those had stopped long ago. “Sav, I’d never tell him. You can’t think…”

Sav searched my face for long moments, her brows bunching tightly over her brow.

I held my breath, waiting to see if she was finally ready to start trusting me. I wasn’t sure if my still bruised heart could take it if she knifed me again, but I was wholly dependent on her willingness to lower those walls.

I held out my hand, and this time, she took it. She looked down at our interlaced fingers and I squeezed, praying this woman wasn’t about to shatter my heart again. Her brows relaxed, a small v still indenting her forehead, but she nodded.

“Just promise me you won’t tell him how to get into Faerie.” Sav’s eyes were so full of hope, and it did something to my heart. She’d never looked at me like she wanted anything from me before, like she trusted me enough to ask.

Hazel warned me that Sav didn’t trust easily, that everyone in her life had betrayed her.

But somehow, she was willing to give me that gift.

It left me speechless. I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“Never,” I choked out, and I meant it. If the world turned on its head and Dane Clyde chose to torture his son to learn the truth, I would endure it and Sav’s perfect, trusting gaze, would live in my mind through all of it.

A strange tingling sensation speared my chest and I rubbed it absently with my free hand. Sav’s gaze darted to my hand, but she said nothing as we resumed walking.

As planned, Sav, Creig, Foxglove and the others went through first. We waited fifteen minutes, giving them time to make it to the side entrance of AFF headquarters before we stepped through a white, shimmering light, Larak and Yolmar grabbing my arms as we breached the pocket and returned to Earth.

Portal travel was never the same. Each crossing was new—this one slammed me into Earth with such force the soles of my feet tingled on impact.

We landed inside Central Park very near the main entrance and far enough away from Sav’s group that we wouldn’t immediately alert any of Dane’s patrol to their presence should they spot us.

A dozen rifles clicked as men shouted upon our arrival and I looked up, meeting cold grey eyes.

“Hi Dane.”