They continued to argue, but their angry words blurred together as her heart pounded against her ribs. She turned around, pulling at the loose shirt that suddenly felt too tight, too warm.
Alive. Alive.
Was Myles really alive or was it another trick?
Could she trust anything in this world?
Alive.
Flashes of that day she’d tried to suppress ran through her mind. Myles hitting the ground. Waking up to find him gone. What did the paramedic say to her before she was arrested? She pulled at her hair and collapsed back onto her bed, the hammering of her pulse drowning out the angry words ricocheting around the room like ping pong balls.
“I’d be surprised if he made it to the hospital.”
Those were the words, and no one had refuted her thought that he was dead. Not the police or her therapist. Not Lochlan when he first abducted her or Griff since.
It didn’t mean Lochlan was telling the truth. She knew that, but the hope expanded within her, pulsing like energy beneath her skin. She needed to know, for someone to be honest with her.
The tingling she recognized now as her magic built up.
“Stop!” she yelled. Glass shattered, spraying shards across the room as every window, every piece of china broke into a thousand tiny pieces.
Pain nicked her cheek, and she wiped away a bead of blood, her chest heaving.
Lifting her head, she found Lochlan and Griff on the ground where they’d dropped to avoid the glass. It settled around them like a blanket just as dangerous as they were.
“Lochlan,” she growled, darkness in her voice. “Get out of my room.”
He stood, examining a shard of glass sticking from his hand. Pulling it free without so much as a wince, he looked to her once more. “Remember what I’ve told you.” Without another word, he turned and left.
Griff picked himself up. Glass crunched underneath his feet as he approached her. “Are you okay?”
“No,” she sniffed. “I’m not okay at all.”
The hard expression he’d saved for his brother softened. “Are you injured?”
Other than a few small cuts, she’d escaped her magical outburst unharmed. She shook her head.
“Come on. We can go to my rooms while someone cleans this up. I think we need to talk.”
He held out his arms and she let herself fall into them. After carrying her across the glass-strewn floor, he set her down and reached for her hand.
Speaking quietly to a servant outside the room, he explained the situation, and within moments, the triplets rushed in to take care of the mess.
Griff didn’t speak to her until they reached his rooms, which looked almost identical to hers, save where her furniture was white, his was a deep cherry wood. Aged vines with deep burgundy flowers wrapped up the walls, never once letting them forget they lived in the middle of a magical forest.
Myles would have gotten a kick out of this.
“Griff.” She tugged on his hand and forced him to face her.
“What’s wrong?” He released her hand and framed her face with his palms.
“Is Myles alive?”
For a moment, everything stood still, until Griff turned away from her and kicked off his boots. “You know the answer to that.”
“Do I?”
His back tensed. “Is this what you and Loch were speaking of? Why you let him into your rooms?”
“First of all, I didn’t let him into my rooms. Second, you’re avoiding the question.”
“What do you want me to say, Brea?” He twisted to face her. “Myles Merrick made it to the hospital where they hooked him up to machines we’d never subject our people to here in the fae world. He lived for two days before succumbing to his injuries.”
“How do you know?” she whispered.
Griff sighed and pulled her against his firm chest, wrapping protective arms around her. “We have contacts in the human world.”
“Did you keep tabs on him for me?”
He nodded, resting his chin on the top of her head. “I hoped to be able to tell you better news. Lochlan is just using your friend to make you doubt me.”
Tears broke free of her eyes. She hadn’t yet cried for Myles, because doing so made it real. But this… Her arms wound around his back, and she held onto him as if her world would break apart if she let go. Maybe it already had.
“Brea.” His breath blew into her hair. “You can’t listen to anything Lochlan says. Ever. His motives are never good.”
“I’m sorry I doubted you. All you’ve done is help me since I arrived.”
He pulled back and put a hand on each of her shoulders. “Do you trust me?”
“I do.”
A smile spread across his lips.
Something still ate at her. “The fire queen—”
“Queen Faolan.”
She nodded. “Sure. She wants me.”
He dipped his head to look her in the eye. Sliding a finger under her chin, he tilted it up. “I will protect you from her.” His eyes blazed violet as he dropped his voice. “I promise.”
She couldn’t have looked away if she tried. Griff was right. Lochlan wasn’t the guy who’d protected her these weeks. He didn’t care about her, not like Griff.
Reaching up on her toes, she pressed her lips to his before drawing back quickly, realizing what she’d done. “I’m sorry. I know you’re just helping me because of my aunt, but—”
His lips cut off her next words and he drew her against him, consuming her as if she were the air he needed to breath. She slid her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life, because there was no way this made anything less complicated.
Yet, she didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. Griff tasted like Gelsi berries and honey, and she never wanted it to end. His hands slid down her back before gripping her waist and pulling her tighter against him.
“Griff,” she whispered against his lips.
“Hmm?”
“This is a bad decision.” She was at the palace to meet her aunt. Who knew what kind of future she had here? A part of her still expected them to shove her back into the human realm the moment they realized she wasn’t the kind of girl who fit here.
But she wanted to fit, with her aunt, with Griff.
“Probably.” He kissed her again. “So it’s a good thing I have a history of bad decisions.”
“I don’t believe that.” As far as she knew, he was the queen’s most loyal follower, her ardent supporter. One didn’t gain such power with bad decisions. This was the same man who’d imprisoned her for days, but even that faded to the back of her mind. Bad decision or not, she needed this, a morsel of happiness to fill the empty chasm inside her.
“Are you saying you don’t want to kiss me again?”
Was she? She considered him for a long moment before fitting her lips to his once more. “Wait… you’re not like related to the queen, right? I know you’re from Iskalt, but if there’s a reason you rose so high in the Gelsi court… I’m no Jaime Lannister.”
He grinned as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I don’t know who those people are, but we aren’t related. I promise you that.”
“You and your promises.”
He trailed his lips over the curve of her ear. “I promise I want to kiss you again.”