I don’t know why, but something about the fact that both Kiran and Asha have bothered to remember his name when they’ve never even met him has my eyes burning.

My voice is shaking, but I try my best to steady it. To maintain the nonchalant demeanor I’ve always found so practical. “Yes, well, then I suppose he also told you I’ve gone and fallen in love with my torturer. Evander hasn’t said much about it, but I’m sure he’s thrilled.”

Asha smiles, though it’s somewhat pained. “I think you’ll find that Kiran is unlikely to pass that sort of judgment.”

Something is squeezing at my ribcage, threatening to wrench the air out of me. Throughout Alondria, Kiran is known for his villainy. I’m not sure his sparing of Asha will ever change that. I’m not sure anything he does to atone for his sins will ever change how everyone perceives him. He has a bloodstain on his reputation, one that no launderer can cleanse.

I know what that’s like.

Nox does too.

I hate relating to Kiran, hate relating to Asha. And I’m so, so tired of the shame, the guilt that only ever rots holes on my insides, never binding me up or turning me from my set path.

I shake my head; I’m being stupid. Just a few hours ago, I was fine, the wall around my heart completely intact. I don’t understand why I can push these feelings away one minute, then be bombarded by them the next.

We’re close to the tree line now. Close enough that the scent of pine curls in tendrils around my nostrils.

Someone’s heart pumps behind a nearby tree.

I can sense him, recognize him.

I’m confident Asha cannot.

There’s a faint glow coming from the lanterns strung up around the garden that highlights Asha’s harsh features. Enough light that, should any of the guards patrolling the gardens walk by, they’d see everything.

More importantly, they’d see I was with her when it happened.

They’d know I didn’t try to help, like I’ll claim later when questioned about her disappearance.

Just a few more steps, and we’ll be safely tucked away into the darkness, where no guard can contradict my story, the story Az has woven on my tongue.

I’m doing this for Nox, I remind myself.

Because that’s what love is. Having no boundary you wouldn’t cross, no wall you wouldn’t shatter, no world you wouldn’t burn for that person.

That’s what love is.

It’s what it has to be, because otherwise I don’t think I can claim it, and I can’t bear to think that perhaps I don’t actually love Nox.

A memory assaults my mind, one where Farin’s arms wrap around the backs of my legs, hauling me into his arms as he presses his lips to mine…

I shake it away.

“I’ve found some books in the library,” Asha says, snatching me from my thoughts. “Some on potions, others on creatures that can inflict sleep. I don’t know if there’s a book out there that contains the answer to saving him, but if there is, I’ll find it.”

“What?” My question sounds hollow, as I’m somewhat stunned by Asha’s vow. It means no more than a vow coming from my lips would, since neither of us is bound by the fae curse, but still.

“You don’t have to do that.” I try to keep the begging out of my voice, the please don’t do this. Please don’t be kind to me. Not here. Not now. Not before I ruin you.

“I want to.” The way Asha says it makes it sound like it should be obvious.

My legs are trembling now, and I can only be thankful that Asha’s human vision won’t notice now that I’ve stepped halfway into the shadows.

Az is just behind the tree, the one to which Asha has her back turned. I can feel his heart pounding with excitement. I can feel the blood rushing to his limbs. He peeks behind the tree, just barely, and when he glimpses her, his breath catches.

Fates, I realize for the first time, he really does have feelings for her. Part of me has wondered if he’s been exaggerating his relationship with Asha, the childhood friendship he’d claimed bound them.

I can tell now he’s not exaggerating.

Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe it’s Az and Asha who are Fated. Maybe, if their lives were woven into a tapestry, this is how their story would always end. Maybe they’re bound together by something more ancient, more primal than even a fae marriage bond.

Maybe this will not end badly for Asha.

“I can tell you’re afraid,” says Asha. “You’re skilled at hiding it, but I recognize the signs. The jokes—they’re supposed to mask the fear, aren’t they?”

I swallow, the lump in my throat growing uncomfortably large. “You seem like you’ve gotten the best of your fears.”

Asha’s gaze waters over, wanders off into the dark distance. “If that’s what you think, I guess I haven’t lost my knack for acting.”

Dread coils in my gut, and I want to scream, to beg her to stop talking, lest, lest…

“There’s someone out there who wants me. Wants to use me for evil. Everyone else prefers to believe he’s moved on to easier targets, but I don’t think any of them quite understand. They don’t know him like I do…”

Asha’s still looking off into the distance, stepping backward, as if to rest her back against the tree. One more step, and the shadows will consume her.

Az shifts in the trees, readying to pounce.

Just step to the side. Into the shadows where no one will see, I tell myself.

Oh, why am I so terribly awful at listening to myself?

“Asha. Asha, you need to go back inside.”

Az’s heart practically stops. Then his pulse races, anger and confusion practically barreling off of him. I watch him step forward, his arms outstretched to grab Asha and steal her away, but my comment has her sidestepping into the light.

“Asha,” I say, this time with enough force to my voice to alert the guard falling asleep on the balcony ahead. Voices murmur from up above, signaling to me I’ve got their attention.

More importantly, signaling to Az I’ve got their attention.

I grit my teeth, confusion washing over Asha’s face.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Your fear.” I make a careful effort to flare my nostrils, clamp my jaw. “It’s making your heart race.”

A breeze flutters through the gardens, and I seize the opportunity to gasp.

I let my canines out to shine. Asha’s eye goes wide at the sight of them.