“There’s no need. I can take one of the public carriages.”

“Kerris—”

“Please. I want to be alone.”

Thankfully, my cousin knows when to quit. She gives my hand a squeeze and tells me to be safe. The driver insists I’m too wet to sit inside the carriage for fear of ruining the cushions, so I’m forced to sit beside him on the stiff wooden bench at the front. By the time we reach Rosehill, my skin and dress have gone muddy brown from the thick layer of dust kicked up by the four horses pulling the carriage.

I’m mucky, freezing, and exhausted.

Heaven help the poor woman who ends up marrying Ronan Reve.

24

Everett

“Most people believe that dreams and shadows dance in silence. But if you listen closely enough, you’ll hear their song.”

Author Unknown

My skin feels tight from my bath in the river, but at least I no longer reek of death. It is a fruitless notion for me to wish Kerris finds my scent as pleasant as I find hers, but I wish it all the same. Which is why I stooped to borrowing the soap Maddox infused with pine needles and sap. It smells much better than I thought it would. Not that I would ever give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

Moonlight falls over Kerris’s fine cottage like a beacon, calling me to her side. Maddox would not stop asking questions about her during today’s hunt. What she likes. What she hates. What makes her different from an Unseelie female.

As if I would share anything with him.

Kerris might not be mine, but she certainly will never be his. I would run him through before I let him near her.

I scale her roof with ease, the stiff thatch cracking under my weight like a quiet threat.

Before I knock on the glass, I catch a glimpse of my reflection and stifle my groan. The back of my hair is not cooperating with the front. No matter how many times I press it down, the strands keep lifting right back up. As frustrated as I am, I refuse to let this deter me from seeing Kerris.

Her room is dark, so perhaps she will not notice my unruly hair.

My knuckles meet the glass pane in a discreet knock.

I listen for sounds of life but only silence responds. Where is Kerris?

Did she forget that I promised to call? Does she not wish to see me anymore?

Who would blame her?

She does not need you.

You are the one who needs her.

I allow myself one more knock. A desperate plea for more time in her warm presence.

Sounds of stirring drift from within. The rustle of a quilt. A quiet curse that pulls a smile from my lips. The stumbling of feet as her form appears.