“Because walking makes me feel better,” she said with a pout. “And we can’t spend the day with your hand on my stomach.”
“Technically, it’s lower than your stomach.”
“And the mess doesn’t bother you?”
“Everything about you is beautiful, miraculous.”
“Lovely words, darling dread lord, but I’m not changing my mind about talking to the nymphs. This is merely a delay.”
I held up a towel as she rose to her feet. “You’re not weakening?”
“Not even a smidge.”
“Define smidge.”
Her laugh overflowed with delight as she wrapped the towel and plucked the damp hair away from her shoulder. “I’m getting dressed.”
Since sweatpants weren’t appropriate for walking through Westvale, I did the same, donning my usual black and leaning against the kitchen counter until she was finally ready to leave. The plan was to find a café where it was warm and the coffee was the way she liked it. I wanted to feed her, coddle her until she felt better.
And I still hoped I’d win the argument.
We met Caerwen and Effa in the hall. While Noa explained the weather delay, I remained stoic. The nymphs agreed to pass the news on to Aine and Metis, although connecting to Metis meant going to the Claw and calling on Annora, which they were happy to do. I wondered if the nymphs had their own qualms about the meeting Noa planned. I’d witnessed Fee having a tizzy fit over lighting a stove. Nymph magic was equally unpredictable.
Especially with powerful queens like Metis and Aine, and if they had secrets that neither wanted revealed.
“We know you’re a dread lord,” the nymphs said when they agreed to Noa’s request, twisting up my insides. They were aware of what I’d do if things went wrong. They also knew she was a faille. Her bloodline led back to the queens like Amal, and a fate more complicated than she liked to pretend.
Another detail the nymphs understood as completely as I did had to do with Metis and Aine—queens who hadn’t reached their level of power because they were nice. They shared the same father, the vindictive ocean god no one mentioned out loud. And Noa was resolute, unafraid. She’d challenged Metis before when she wanted to find that fucking book her mother hid. Now it was answers she wanted.
She will leave, wolf… and you must let her go. The witch’s words swam through my mind, chilling the blood in my veins. If Noa was convinced that solving the mystery of the rune was the only way to fight Amal, she would not waver. She’d see it as having my back. And she would leave, fueled by the questions that held dangerous answers.
My chest ached. I shook it off, pressing my palm against the small of her back. I hadn’t slept much last night, when every time she moved, I’d wanted to scoop her up, drag her far away from here. “Where in Westvale did you want to go?”
“The Farmer’s Market.” She wore thick leggings and a thigh-length sweater, boots. “I saw jars of honey I’d like to try. But I’ll pass on the white liquor if you keep pouring the cognac.”
“Too early in the morning for alcohol,” I said, relieved to let her ramble.
“The proprietor would probably interest you,” she said casually. “He sees everything.”
“Spies and informants?”
“He might be a good source.” Her boots crunched in the snow. “Who you can trust to give you accurate information, who is likely to lie. Like having an extra pair of eyes in the Farmer’s Market.”
I helped her off a curb, across an icy patch. A wolf paused instead of rushing by, tipped his head to me, and then to her. And damn if my throat wasn’t twisting with pride for the woman she’d become… and dread for what was at stake.
Noa smiled, peering up at the closest surveillance camera; in Westvale, they were everywhere, part of the elaborate security system. “Now we’ve done it. A public display of alpha-ness. Anson will have fits again.”
I rubbed at her back. “I promised to be good. No blood in the streets.”
She swished her hips as she walked along the sidewalk, sidestepping the boy who shoveled snow outside a small clothing store. “I’ll tell him I was flirting.”
“You’ll tell him no such thing,” I growled. “A queen never apologizes.”
“I’m no queen.”
She was watching me with that secret glow in her eyes. I cupped her face, not bothering to be subtle. “Should I remind you of what I said last night?”
Her smile only widened. “I don’t remember queen being a word you groaned.”
