Falling for an Unseelie fae probably isn’t the answer she’s looking for, but it’s the first one that springs to mind.

Because I have been falling, unbeknownst to myself, and what I feel for Ever is more than anything I’ve felt for another.

Not that I can tell her any of that.

So I slip out of my shoes and set them beside the door, pretending nothing is amiss. “My legs were feeling restless, so I went for a walk.”

Her harsh breath extinguishes the flame; gray smoke twists toward her face in the filtered moonlight. “With an Unseelie fae?”

Drats and damnation. “Nia, I can explain⁠—”

“I don’t want to hear more lies. I want the truth.”

“The truth is, I did go for a walk…to The Divide.”

“Heavens, Kerris, it’s one thing to venture there with your friends by your side, and another thing entirely to go to that cursed place without an escort. The Unseelie are killers, every last one of them. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“You’re wrong about them.” Everyone is wrong.

“Keep your voice down,” she hisses. “There’s no telling what will happen if you wake my parents.”

She’s right. I’m lucky my cousin was the one who discovered my secret and not my aunt or uncle. This is a good thing, I tell myself. A chance to quell her ignorance. “The Unseelie only kill to feed themselves—and to protect us. That bridge? They guard it every night so that the wolves and whatever other monsters prowl their land don’t cross into Rosehill. They keep us safe.” Without Ever and his people, there’s no telling what sort of beasts would have infiltrated the city, and all anyone on this side does is spread hate about them.

“That doesn’t change the fact that if anyone finds out you were with one, your reputation will be ruined beyond repair. You’ve already spurned the prince. Do not alienate yourself further by aligning yourself with one of them.”

I think of Ever’s hands on my body. The way his breath tangled with mine. The press of his lips to my skin. He is the only man who has ever made me feel this way, and all Nia cares about is my bloomin’ reputation.

Swallowing my truth, I tell the biggest lie of all: “We’re only friends. Nothing more.”

Although her eyes narrow, she must not feel like arguing because she bobs her head and says, “See that it stays that way.”

* * *

This morning, Nia’s eyes feel as if they’re burning a hole through my skull. I offer to do the dishes after breakfast to avoid having a conversation. That only gives me a brief reprieve, because when I finish, Nia sweeps into the room holding a box from Madame Ella’s, her eyes narrowed into slits and a stern set to her jaw.