His smile slips away. “You are cold. You should go home.”

Something about the darkness and the shadows makes me feel bolder than ever before. Makes me want things I shouldn’t.

Any man would be lucky to have your attention.

Right now, Everett has all of it.

“Or you could come closer and keep me warm.”

After a brief hesitation, he shifts until his bare arm presses against mine. No wonder he doesn’t need a shirt. He’s as warm as that fire.

I reach out a finger to trace his necklace, right where it falls at his collarbone. “Where did these come from?” It’s made of bones and teeth. Fascinating.

“That one is from the first elk I killed.”

“And this one?” My finger slips from the tooth, grazing along the hollow of his throat.

His breathing hitches, nostrils flaring. “From a silver fox.”

I didn’t even know foxes could be silver. “Why do you keep them?”

“We try to use everything we can.”

Such a different outlook compared to the Seelie fae, who drink in excess and leave behind far too much food. We’re wasteful by nature. If the sparse vegetation I can see from here is any indication of what lies on this side of The Divide, there doesn’t seem to be as much to waste.

“No box of food tonight, Kerris Dawn?” Maddox calls from his seat by the fire.

In my excitement to leave the house, the thought of bringing biscuits hadn’t even crossed my mind. “I’ll bring you some next time.”

Maddox’s bark of laughter only seems to make Everett’s scowl deepen. Even Gryffin is almost smiling.

“Please, do not do that,” Everett says through a grimace, his quiet plea almost lost to another round of laughter from Maddox. There is clearly something happening between them, but when I ask what it is, Everett rolls his lips together and his friends fall silent.

Did they not like the biscuits? Are they making fun of me? The heat of embarrassment washes over me.

But then Everett’s thigh grazes my skirt, and I’m warm for an entirely different reason.

“How old were you when you lost your mother?” he asks in a quiet voice.

“Five.”

His expression softens, soothing my raw heart. “My mother passed when I was five as well.”

“So, you’re not born of shadows and darkness, after all?”

The corners of his lips lift. “I am afraid not.”

Who would have thought that Everett and I would have such a tragedy in common? Perhaps that’s why I feel so drawn to him, because we have both suffered and have come out on the other side of loss different than before.

That’s something the so-called experts on these matters never tell you. When you lose someone you love, the years don’t fully heal you; they only give you longer respites between bouts of insurmountable grief.