Despite having known Sionnach for years, she felt off-kilter. She hadn’t felt like a human girl for a very long time, but Sionnach was right in that she didn’t want to be cast away as if she were unimportant. At the same time, she felt foolish that she hadn’t realized that Sionnach had genuinely looked at her in any way other than as a friend. He’d flirted for years, but he was a fox faery. It was his nature. She’d thought he might have had such thoughts a couple of weeks ago on the night when he wore Jayce’s face and pretended he would kiss her—and the next day—but then he’d helped her explain what she was to Jayce.

“You wanted me to be with Jayce,” she half protested. It seemed odd that he would admit that he’d thought of her in a way other than friends, yet continue to push her toward Jayce. She wasn’t sure what to think, but she was unsettled by the realizations that Sionnach was eliciting—and the way he watched her.

“Go get Jayce, Rika,” Sionnach said gently as he released his hold on her hand. “I’m fine for the few moments you’ll be away, and you have the mortal boy you wanted.”

Rika was silent as she watched him. She ran her recently freed fingers around the top rim of the water bowl. “I care for you, but I love him. He doesn’t know, but I fell in love before he knew I existed. I just want that, to be loved—even though loving mortals is foolish.”

“Love—even with such finite creatures—is everything, Rika,” Sionnach said gently. “He’s what I want for you, and I’m sure you’re worried about him. Just go fetch him. Please?”

“Why?”

Sionnach pushed himself into a sitting position and reached out to take her hand from the bowl she now clutched tightly. She let go of it and instead busied herself putting extra pillows behind him so he was propped up on them.

“Why?” she repeated. “Why do you want me to be with Jayce if you . . .” She felt stupid, trying to verbalize what he didn’t say.

“There’s a price for spilling secrets,” he warned her.

“I know what you are, Shy. I’ve known since we met. ‘Fox faeries are equally loyal and deceitful,’” Rika said it as if she was reading it from a page. She shook her head. “I had a lot of time to read when I was hiding out here those first years—and even more before . . . when I carried winter. Cursed faeries are solitary faeries. Formerly mortal faeries are even more so.”

Sionnach looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t.