His nose lifts, and he inhales deeply. “Maddox?”

I nod.

His knuckles whiten where they grip the doorframe. “He knows better than to bring you to this place. It is not safe.”

“And yet I’m here all the same.”

His brows jump beneath the dark strands of hair falling across his forehead. “Why?”

Because I’m halfway to loving you, you big, prideful fool. “Because you have no one else.”

Ever blinks at me, saying nothing as his gaze makes a slow glide from my braid to the dirty slippers peeking from beneath my skirt. Slowly, he steps aside, a silent invitation into his home.

The stairs whine as I climb to the entrance and duck beneath his arm. The roof is just high enough that he can stand upright. Barely. A crackling fire blazes inside a tiny cast iron stove with the pipe affixed to the wall. To my right are a handful of cabinets, all painted with the same flowers as the outside. At the very back is a bed.

I swallow thickly, working through the emotion climbing my throat. How does he live in such cramped quarters? And everything is so… frilly. There are ruffles and flowers everywhere, from the walls to the quilt on his bed.

Ever’s bed.

With my stomach fluttering like mad, I trace a daisy on the cabinet, the petals gone yellow with age. “This is beautiful.”

The carriage rocks when Ever shifts his weight. “My mother’s touch.”

“Is this where you’ve always lived?”

A nod.

“No brothers or sisters, I presume?” Heaven knows there wouldn’t be room for them.

His head swings toward the little square window framed with yellowed lace curtains. “We are only allowed one child.”

“Why?” I can’t imagine life without my brother.

He slips his hands into the pockets of his trousers, the muscles in his bare arms flexing with even the slightest movement. “It is easier to keep one safe than multiple.”

Because these lands are so dangerous.

Yet Ever and the rest of his people spend night after night guarding us against horrors we cannot even fathom.

I slip the pack from my back and set it on the wooden slab that serves as a counter of sorts.

“More biscuits?” He sounds almost hopeful.

“Something better.” I withdraw the flask filled from the tap and hand it to him.

He sets it right back on the counter with a murmur of thanks.

“You should drink it.” If what Maddox said is true, then he hasn’t had any water from the well for over a week.

He shifts once more, his eyes brimming with shadows. “Why have you come, Kerris?”

“I missed you.” Although I try to smile, there is no sincerity behind it. How can I feign happiness when my heart is broken for all Ever has lost?