“So Jayce was what? A distraction? A prize?” She felt a familiar tangle of embarrassment and anger. She’d let Sionnach know that she’d cared for Jayce, let him see that she wanted so desperately just to be loved that she’d taken to following a mortal boy around.

Sionnach still said nothing in his defense, nothing to explain away his actions or even ask about Maili’s fate or her injuries. He simply stared at her silently.

“How could you do this to me?” She repeated the one question that had been playing over and over in her mind since Maili’s revelations.

Finally, Sionnach looked as furious as Rika felt, anger replacing the fear in his eyes. “You didn’t leave me a lot of options. I’ve waited for years for you to find a reason to come out of your gloom and look at the world. You did nothing. You stayed here in the dark and pouted. Caring for someone . . . it makes you see what matters.” His fox tail had flicked madly behind him while he spoke, and then all at once, it stopped. He stilled completely and said only, “I care about you.”

Rika knew that tears were streaking down her cheeks, knew that he saw them and felt guilty for it, but none of that changed anything. He’d manipulated her. She walked up to him, standing closer than she’d ever stood when they’d argued, and folded her arms over her chest. “Not enough to make you honest though.”

Sionnach didn’t back down. “Jayce is good for you. Look how happy you’ve been lately. I just moved a few pieces so you’d have to act on it. Once you were with him, I knew you’d want to make things safer in the desert.”

“You really aren’t any different than Keenan, are you?” Tears dripped down her cheeks, falling onto her chest and crossed arms. She didn’t wipe away her tears, afraid that if she stopped holding on to herself she’d strike Sionnach.

“You know that’s not true, Rika,” he said. “I heard about Keenan being unbound. I tried to make changes so we weren’t doing things that would attract his attention too soon, but I wasn’t strong enough to handle it alone if he came here . . . and he did. I needed help. You’re stronger, and if we work together—if we act like friends—we can keep the desert safe.” Sionnach reached out as if to wipe her tears away.

She slapped his hand. “Friends don’t manipulate one another.”

“I needed you, and you needed someone who—”

“What about letting me decide what I need?”

“You weren’t deciding anything.” His anger returned, and his tail swished rapidly behind him again.

“So that makes it right to manipulate me?”