“You wouldn’t be.” He smiled at her curiosity. “This isn’t done.”

“Being near each other? Are you saying there’s no sex in Faerie?” She lifted her head to stare at his face. “For real?”

“Of course there’s sex, but this”—he gestured at the two of them—“is not sex. Sex is a very different thing than what we are doing.”

“What about after?”

“After sex one bathes and dresses.” Devlin repressed a sigh of pleasure as she snuggled back into his arms. He’d never simply held anyone, not for pleasure or need or emotion.

“Faerie sounds horrible.” Ani shuddered a little. Absently, she began to trace some sort of pattern on his stomach.

“No, not horrible, just out of balance,” Devlin admitted the truth he hadn’t ever spoken aloud. His frequent trips to the mortal world had made him increasingly aware that the beauty of Faerie was missing something. Without shadows, the brightness was insufficient. The Dark Court’s prolonged absence from Faerie had created a void. Faerie was out of balance and had been for centuries.

Is that why Sorcha acts so unwell? He felt guilt at the thought, but it seemed shameful that the Queen of Order kept sending him off to check on a newly made faery.

“Dev?” Ani lifted her head to look at him. “You’re doing that not-really-here thing again.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and strangely, he was—not just for being aloof, but for the moments he’d missed over eternity by doing that very thing. Being reserved wasn’t something he enjoyed; being Sorcha’s creature wasn’t something he enjoyed. His pleasures were almost all found in the mortal world, where he could lower his self-control for a heartbeat here or there. What would Faerie be like if the Dark Court returned? The thought of it gave him an unfamiliar jolt. If the Dark Court returned home, there would be change in Faerie. And maybe… Ani. If not, if he couldn’t go to Faerie with her, maybe he could stay in the mortal world. Sorcha had remade Seth; she could make him her assassin. If not Seth, someone else. I could be free.

Devlin lifted one hand to caress Ani’s cheek. “I don’t want to be distant. I want to be near to you.”

She stilled, holding her breath for a moment.

He hadn’t had a plan beyond removing her from Bananach’s reach. “Until I know you’re safe, how am I to leave you?”

“Irial could keep me safe. He’s not bound to the court… Maybe he’d move, or I could hide. You don’t have to—”

“But I want to.” He traced the line of her jaw, pausing just under her lips.

“Want to what?”

“Everything.” He felt an unfamiliar nervousness.

“What are you offering?” she asked again, just as she had when he removed his shirt.

“Asking,” he corrected. “I’m asking to kiss you. May I?”

“Yes please,” she whispered.

It wasn’t the sort of consuming kiss they’d shared at the Crow’s Nest, not at first. For a brief few moments, it was the sort of kiss that he’d never had: exploring and careful, tasting and gentle. Then, Ani pressed against him like she was starving.

No logic. No negotiations.

She was stretched out beside him, and he rolled onto his hip so they were face-to-face.

No discussion.

He had no idea where they were going, but in that instant, he set aside all thought. As long as she was alive, she was his responsibility.

My reason.

Mine.

As she wrapped a leg over him, his emotions slipped free from the last restraint. Letting down the walls that kept his very un–High Court emotions repressed had become easy around Ani. He liked it. It felt natural.

It is. With Ani, it’s the way it should be. With Ani is the way I… An untried emotion filled him. It wasn’t appreciation or lust; it wasn’t worry or protectiveness. Those were all threaded into it, but it was something else.

He felt her pulse race faster as they kissed.

A wave of exhaustion washed over him then, and he couldn’t focus his thoughts.

Abruptly, she pulled back. “No.”

She scrambled backward off the bed.

“Ani?” He held out a hand. “Have I offended—”

“No.” Her eyes were shimmering with the vivid green of the Hunt. She was the Hunt, and she could consume him.

He felt a thrill of terror.

She held her hands out as if to warn him off. “I can’t if you… just… no… not with you. You’re not safe if… You don’t know what I am.”

She ran into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

Ani sat on the dingy floor and tried not to shiver. She reached up and locked the door. It wouldn’t matter: neither of them would be even slowed by the lock—or the door, for that matter.

I won’t hurt him.

She could hear him on the opposite of the door; she could feel his emotions. Guilt. Shame. Fear. Worry. If she didn’t explain, he’d think he’d done something wrong.

“I can do this; I can tell him,” she whispered. Then she raised her voice and said, “Go to the other side of the room. Please?”

She waited for a couple moments, listening to him walking away. In the still of the room, she could hear his heartbeat racing. Like prey. It didn’t make her self-control any easier.

Slowly, she opened the door and took two steps forward.

He stood on the opposite side of the tiny room. His dangerous emotions were walled up again. “Did I injure you?”

Without meaning to, Ani let out a laugh. “No.”

His face didn’t betray anything. “I would never force—”

“I know that.” She sat on the floor with her back to the edge of the door frame. “It’s not you… I…”

Devlin stayed standing. “You don’t need to explain.”

Neither his voice nor his posture revealed any of the emotions she’d felt so clearly when she sat with the door between them, but she knew what he’d felt. He knew that she was aware of every emotion that had flooded him. Part of her wanted to pretend ignorance, but she wasn’t selfish enough to let him believe he was at fault.

To most people, yes, but not you, Devlin.

She sighed and started the conversation she didn’t want to have. “How did you feel after I kissed you at the Crow’s Nest?”

“It had been a long—”

“Exhausted?” She paused long enough to see him nod, and then continued, “Dizzy? Weak?”

“I am the High Queen’s Bloody Hands. I am not weak.” He scowled at her. “I’d had much to do of late, but—”

She interrupted again. “I drain the energy from faeries… and mortals.”

Devlin watched her, but he’d locked down his emotions. She hated the fact that he’d done so, almost as much as she hated that he hadn’t done so when they were kissing.

She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her folded legs. “If it’s emotion, but no touch, I do okay. If it’s touch, but no emotion, I do fine. Sometimes, though, when it’s both… I was drinking your energy that night, Devlin.”

For a long moment, he didn’t respond, and then he asked, “And tonight?”

Ani took a deep breath. “I could feel your emotions, so I stopped.”

“I see.” Devlin walked toward her. When he was directly in front of her, he knelt down on the carpet.

She lifted her gaze. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I do need to be well to keep you safe.” His voice was emotionless.

“That’s not why.” She closed her eyes. Having him so close was cruel.

His hand stroked her hair. “I am sorry I caused you upset.”

She opened her eyes to look at him. “I could kill you.”

“You could’ve just now,” Devlin whispered. “I don’t think I would’ve stopped you.”

She shivered. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she repeated. “I want… you.”

His emotions remained locked down as he ran his hand down her arm. “I talked to Irial.”