His words break something inside me. I press my face against him, not caring that he’s covered in Saemon’s blood and I probably reek of vomit. “I thought you died. Oh Nemeth. I thought I’d lost you forever.” I choke on a sob. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“I never abandoned you. Never. Not once.” He slides a hand under my chin and tilts my head up. “You look unwell. Is it the child? Have you eaten?”

As if his reminder saps all the strength out of me, my head spins. I try to push the dizziness aside so I can gaze on his gorgeous face for all eternity, because I never want to look away. “I have one dose left,” I tell him. “Saving it. And no, I haven’t eaten. Nothing to eat.”

Nemeth shakes his head, cradling me against him again, and I find my face shoved into the crook of his neck. “I’m going to get these bodies out of here, and then I’m going to give you your potion, love. And then we’re going to eat.”

“You’re not listening,” I say, voice muffled against his neck. “There’s nothing to eat⁠—”

“There’s always something to eat.”

I gasp. “You want to eat the dead humans?”

Nemeth snorts, giving me a funny look. “Of course not. We’re going to eat the horse they just killed.”

Oh. Well, that makes a lot more sense than my theory. Even so, my stomach roils uncomfortably at the thought. “I’m not sure I can.”

“I’ll make it into a stew,” he tells me, voice stern. “And you’ll eat.”

I…guess I’m eating horse. Because the look on Nemeth’s face tells me whatever argument I have, I won’t win.

Chapter

Sixty-Six

Ashort time later, I have my arm folded over and I’m leaning back in the chair by the fire. My head is spinning and I’m dizzy, but there’s a comforting edge to it because I know it’s from my potion, the very last dose I had. I don’t know what we’re going to do tomorrow, but I suppose that’s tomorrow’s problem. Nearby, Nemeth fusses with the small cook-pot over the fire. We found some spices in the kitchen, along with salt, and I have to admit that even though I’m not excited about eating horse, it smells utterly divine. My mouth waters constantly and I watch my mate with sleepy, blurry eyes.

He looks so good. I could stare at him all day and all night, just admiring the strong lines of his back. His kilt is water-stained and the leather distorted, the decorative straps no longer lying flat. They part across his backside, revealing the short stump of a tail that he’s so prudish over. His wings are folded up neat, the wing-points framing his head, and he just looks so familiar and cozy that I want to stay in this moment forever. Just me, drowsy with a hit of medication, and Nemeth fussing over a delicious-smelling meal and sneaking glances back at me while rain patters away on the roof.

“How did you find us?” I ask him when he dips a wooden spoon into the pot and tastes the stew. “Was it magic?”

Nemeth glances back at me. “I told you, Candra. I never lost you. I’ve been following this entire time.”

The words don’t make sense to me, no matter how many times I turn them over in my head. “I don’t understand. What do you mean you were following?”

“We were talking, remember? In the cottage?” He licks the spoon, then dips it into the pot once more, and then blows on the steaming contents to cool them. He holds it out to me, an offering, his other hand underneath. Reluctantly, I lean forward to eat and the meat is tough, but it’s delicious. My stomach cramps hard with hunger and I nod at him. He takes the spoon back and then stirs the pot once more. “Not too much longer. We’ll let it cook down a bit more, soften the meat.”

“Nemeth,” I chide. “Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not. But feeding you is first and foremost in my mind.” He turns his head and gives me a wry smile. “Everything about you is first and foremost in my mind.” He stirs the meat again, then lets the spoon rest against the side of the pot. “Something broke my perimeter spell, and I gathered shadows to investigate.”

“Perimeter spell?” I frown. “This is the first I’ve heard of such a thing. What is it?”

“Magic, of course. It’s a type of enchantment that allows me to watch over the periphery of an object. You know the old battle saying that you can never sneak up on a Fellian?”

“No.” I give my lover an amused look. “I’m not up to date on my battle sayings, I’m afraid.”

“Ah.” He rubs one ear, looking embarrassed. “Well, we like humans to think it’s because of our shadow magic, but it’s truly due to enchantments. You can never sneak up on a Fellian because most of us have a perimeter ward upon our belt buckle.” And he gives his a pat. “The moment someone comes close, it makes a strident noise that only I can hear and alerts me that there’s an intruder. I cast another perimeter spell upon my food stores back in the tower, too. You’ll recall I caught you sniffing around?”

“I never stole from you!”

“Aye, I know you didn’t, love. But at the time I didn’t know you well. So…a perimeter spell. We were in the cottage, and I heard the noise of someone approaching, and I slipped into shadows to see who it was. When I saw it was the humans, I kept to the shadows, ready to attack…and then I saw that they had horses.”

My stomach gives a funny, uncomfortable little flip.

Nemeth’s expression is uneasy. He won’t look me fully in the eye as he continues. “And I saw those horses, and it made me pause. Because we weren’t going to reach the human settlement before you ran out of medicine. I knew I couldn’t fly you there, and so I made a choice.”

“Nemeth, no.” I’m horrified. He left me with those men deliberately?

“I couldn’t let you die, Candra.”

“You left me with those vile men? Let me worry over you? I thought you were hurt! Or worse! I thought you were dead, Nemeth, and that I’d never see you again.” I shudder. “They ate all of our food and drank two of my potions before they knew what they were, and you left me with them?” I feel betrayed.

“It was a choice I agonized over,” he confesses, his rich, velvety voice aching with sorrow. “And I watched from the shadows. If they tried to hurt you, I would slaughter them where they stood. But as long as they were traveling towards your city, and as long as they had the horses, they were moving faster than I could go with you, and so I left you with them. I’m sorry. I thought you might be safer with them than with a Fellian who can barely fly.”

I’m stiff with anger. On some level, his words make sense. The humans were moving faster than we could. Nemeth can’t fly me, and we’re low on supplies. But the last few days of sheer agony—of bitter worry over his absence, of distress over the situation—make it impossible for me to easily forgive. “You could have said something.”

“When? They didn’t leave you alone for a second, Candra.” He shakes his head and nudges the spoon in the pot, as if he can somehow will our dinner to cook faster. “When was I supposed to come in and warn you?”

“I don’t know,” I say helplessly. “All I know is that you let those men eat our food and take my potion. You let me worry that you were dead—” My voice catches and I can’t speak. I shake my head, weary and hurt beyond all capacity to reason. I hate that we left the tower and brought this on the world. I hate that Nemeth abandoned me. I hate that the world I used to know no longer exists, and I’m trapped in this rainy, deserted hellscape.

More than anything, I’m worried. My last potion is gone. We’re down to eating horse…and every time I turn around, I feel like I’m learning something new about my mate. I stare down at the bite on my hand, and I think about the happiness I felt on that day.

It feels like a very long time ago.

“You’re upset,” Nemeth says, voice soft.