Page 19 of WitchBorn

Finn lingered a few seconds more, a war of emotions on his face which made me think not only was he younger than I originally thought, but also respect his willpower to not shout or scream about the unfairness of it all. He glanced once more atthe cake, then headed to the bathroom, leaving the door open. I heard the shower turn on, and made my way to sit on the bed.

He popped his head out the doorway. “I’m going to leave the door open…” He hesitated as if embarrassed. “I feel safer if I can hear you out here.”

“I don’t think the world is going to eat you while you’re in the shower.”

“Well, that’s one of us,” Finn grumbled vanishing back into the bathroom.

I had to work to not think about him naked a dozen feet away. My stomach grumbled with hunger, the cake tempting, the tea wafting with steam, somehow still hot after sitting there for who knows how long. The sounds of Finn in the bathroom, moving around under the water, and faintly, his heartbeat, added a level of comfort I couldn’t recall experiencing in my long life. I wasn’t alone.

It was a dumb thought. We were all alone. Everyday always until the very end of our life when we died praying we’d done something important only to find it didn’t matter at all. The curse of a seer meant knowing too much and having little control over anything.

I sucked in a deep breath at the wave of melancholy, stronger than my normal depression, and wondered if it was the world adding to the darkness or the circumstances. The cake beckoned. Sweet tempting strawberries, plump and red, juicy like a siren song. A simple plate of spongy cake topped with delightful berries, no cream, which most would have found odd, but I thought maybe the Summer king might recall what I enjoyed. Or heard legend that eating things with animal products in it like eggs or real cream could trigger the Stag’s bloodlust.

Did Sebastian have a sponge cake recipe without eggs?

The water turned off, and I stared at the doorway, watching for Finn, gaze drawn back to the cake, time and again. When he appeared, dressed again, still in sweatpants that were far too revealing, he followed my gaze to the cake.

“Eat it. It’s fine. No reason for both of us to be hungry.”

Fifteen

WESLEY

Maybe I could feed it to him. He wouldn’t know to find Sebastian, and would likely wake up thinking it was all a fever dream, but he’d be safe. Did we have to eat the whole cake to escape? And why did I care about a mortal I’d only just met?

I picked up the cake and used the fork sitting on the plate beside it to slice a piece off and hold it out for Finn. “Try this.”

“I can’t touch it.”

“You’re not. That’s why I’m trying to feed it to you. I want to see if the magic will recognize me, but let you eat it.”

“You should try it first.”

“I don’t think it’s poison or anything.”

“But you don’t know either,” Finn said. He folded his arms across his chest. Would the cake turn bad if hecouldtouch it?

“I think the cake is from a fae I committed to serve from outside the realm,” I said.

“Committed to serve? Like slavery?”

“I know it sounds strange to an American, but it’s normal among the fae.”

“I’m actually from Canada,” Finn said. “Committed to serve sounds like some sort of ownership to royalty. Slavery or indentured servitude.”

“It is. That’s how being fae works. The other fae is the Summer king. I believe he or his mate sent the food to try to connect with me.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you have to be a slave to this guy?”

“Because he’s more powerful than I am.”

Finn stared at me; eyes narrowed.

“Yes, it’s archaic, but Sebastian is young and part human. I think he’s a little more laid back as a leader.”