But it wasn’t Ashk’s silence that made him edgy as they leaned against one of Baron Liam’s pasture walls. It was learning that there were nighthunters out there, somewhere, that made him yearn for solid walls and thick doors and shutters. He was grateful Liam had found room for them at his house. Several of the gentry had offered accommodations to the midland barons and the Fae leaders, but knowing there were some of those creatures out there wasn’t going to let anyone rest easy—not when there were so many men living out on the land. At least a warning had been sent to the farms nearest the place where Ashk had caught the nighthunters’ scent, and all the camps would post guards to keep watch.

Aiden found no comfort in the fact that he and Ashk were in the open, or that despite the distance the Fae and humans were giving them for privacy, they were hardly alone. Or unarmed. Ashk had her bow and a full quiver, and even in the waning light, he doubted she would miss anything within range of her arrows.

Still, he shifted again, unable to remain calm when every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig made his heart jump.

As if telling the Hunter what he’d learned about the Inquisitors wasn’t enough to make his heart bounce inside his chest.

“Well,” Ashk finally said, “that explains, in some part, why the Black Coats hate witches and the Fae as much as they do.”

“In some part? I think it explains it well enough,” Aiden replied.