“Just be careful,” I said.
Elm snorted. “I don’t need you to protect me. I appreciate it, Draven, but I’m a grown man. I’m older than you.”
It was true. Barely. At thirty-six, Elm was one year older than me.
“I know.” I sighed. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. I don’t want anyone I care about getting hurt.”
Elm gave me a look so full of understanding that I knew he was thinking about Georgie, about what had happened to her a year ago.
“I get it,” Elm said. “But they don’t want to take advantage of me. I offered them my two rooms at the inn, told them I’d stay with you. They declined the offer. Well, Elspeth did.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”
“Her mother and sisters were more than ready to accept my hospitality, but Elspeth insisted they wouldn’t take my charity.”
For some reason, I felt a surge of respect for the witch. She might have been a pain in my ass, but I admired that she hadn’t accepted Elm’s offer.
Elm frowned. “They have a tent. Adelaide told me about it. She made it sound nice, but I hate to think of the five of them stuck in that small space in this weather.”
Iturned and made my way behind the bar, grabbing the now clean mugs and placing them on the shelves that lined the back wall. “There’s five of them?” Five too many, in my opinion.
“I know the tent is spelled to protect them from the elements, but surely they’d appreciate having actual beds, a bath so they don’t have to bathe in the freezing river.”
“Well, they don’t want your help, and you can’t force it on them.” I grabbed another mug and put it on the shelf.
“No, I can’t,” Elm mused.
I turned. “I know that tone. What are you scheming?”
Elm shrugged. “There is one place they could stay. In Thistlegrove Forest...”
I scoffed. “Over my dead and decaying body.”
Elm leaned against the hearth that sat in the middle of the tavern, blocks of stone built into a pillar that shot up to the ceiling. “That witch really got under your skin. In a way I’ve never seen before. Veldar swears at you on a daily basis, throws tantrums in your tavern, and you remain cool as ice. Yet Elspeth throws a few insults your way, and you practically lose it.”
Shit. He was right. I did let her get to me. “She interfered in a family matter,” I said. “One that was none of her concern.”
I knew I was failing Georgie. I knew my sister was disappointed in me, disappointed in this life I was trying to build for us. But having someone criticize the way I dealt with my sister, implying that I was mishandling her, hurting her, it made me see red.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s caught your attention.”
I snorted. “Hardly.”
He shrugged, a smirk lining his lips. “If you say so. Besides, I’m not talking about them staying at your manor. You’re right. They’d never agree to that. I’m talking about your other house.”
I stiffened. I’d bought the cottage when we moved back here, thinking it could be a good investment, a place I rented out—but then I’d realized there was a reason no one wanted to live there. “No. Absolutely not.”
Elm rolled his eyes. “You yourself said you wish you could destroy the thing, but, well, any time you go near it, it attacks you.”
That was true. I had no love for the cottage in the forest, and so far, I’d been unsuccessful in my attempts to get rid of it.
Still, it was mine, and I didn’t want that witch living there. “No. They can’t stay there.”
“You would deny a family a roof over their heads simply because you got into an argument with one of them?” Elm asked.
“She wouldn’t accept the offer if she knew that house belonged to me,” I argued.
“If she knew.” Elm emphasized the “if.”
