“Would she? The lass thinks you’ve been put in her keeping too. And so you were.”

Madeleine dug her hands into the fabric of her jeans. “How can you know a thing like that?”

His eyes were hooded. “Experience.”

Footsteps sounded beyond the kitchen door. Hæra was returning from the morning’s first work and kicking the mud from her boots.

Jonathan lowered his voice. “Just remember: what’s for you won’t go by you.”

“Yes, but⁠—”

The door banged open. They both turned. Hæra stepped in, tall confidence and swagger, someone who didn’t see the future coming at her like a bullet.

“Good morning.” Her voice was warm, and her eyes were too, as she looked at Madeleine. “Glad to see you up and about. How did you sleep?”

How did you? Madeleine didn’t ask. Best not to bring up the nightmare. “Well. Thanks.”

“Good. Jonathan knows I spent the night, by the way.” Hæra sounded apologetic. “I didn’t tell him, but he worked it out.”

At least the cold sensation in Madeleine’s stomach vanished when her face heated up again. “Um, yes, I know.”

“Just as well.” Hæra sat down and slouched back in the chair, smiling openly now. “He told me human sexuality is meant to be private, but I am very happy about it, and I don’t think I can hide it.”

Madeleine swallowed a gasp, even as a warm wave swallowed her. Hæra’s eyes were bright with pleasure now that she was here, with Madeleine, at this table.

Put in your keeping, and you in hers.

Hæra had spoken, often, of keeping Madeleine safe. Protecting her. Shielding her from the wind, catching her when she fell. It seemed to delight her. It came so naturally to her.

As if Madeleine was for her, and Hæra wouldn’t let her go by. She’d always believed that.

“So am I,” Madeleine said. Her voice was low, but it didn’t shake. “No need to hide anything at all.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Borrowed time.

Jonathan and other humans used this phrase occasionally. Hæra knew what it meant but hadn’t understood. How could you borrow something insubstantial? And from whom?

Now, two weeks after she and Madeleine had started having sex (Hæra wouldn’t call it sleeping together, since she hadn’t slept again), it made more sense. Time felt like something she’d been granted temporarily when the witch had saved her life. It couldn’t last forever, and now that she’d given up her mad fantasy of eating Madeleine and becoming a Stormhorse, Hæra had to face facts. This couldn’t last forever.

It was so easy not to talk about it, though. It always had been, although Jonathan had tried to press her on it.