Claus

Eighteen

It was on day two as Faryn laid on the bed reading some steamy romance novel Peter had picked out for her—maybe his magic thought she was too horny—that Cassian's feet suddenly slammed into the ground beside her. Faryn jumped, dropping her book and losing her page. The duchess and the rake had just finally brushed knuckles.

         Cassian held his throat. "I need air." It was the only explanation he offered before he stalked for the door.

         Faryn slung her legs over the side of the bunk and jolted after him, and before he could reach the door, she grabbed his arm. Was it her smell that was bothering him? Was she the only one who had grown used to the others scent?

         But perhaps it was more than that. He was a Fairy; he hadn't liked being underground. Surely, it must also be vexing for a Fairy to be able to see the sky through the window and not reach it.

         "What if someone recognizes you?" She needed Peter, but he was off getting food from the cafeteria.

         Cassian grabbed his cloak from where it hung beside the door. "It's dark. I'll be fine." He pulled the thick fabric around his shoulders. "You and Peter can have some alone time." He held her gaze, his eyes blank.

         "What?"

         He arched a brow. "Yesterday morning. When we left Sleet City."

         When Peter had slept in her bed.

         She flushed. "It wasn't like that. He came to check on me."

         Cassian finished fastening his cloak and took a step toward her. "Whatever you say, Faryn. Just remember, none of us can exactly trust each other." Before she could stop him, he was out the door.

         She slumped against the wall.

         The suite somehow now felt smaller with Peter and Cassian gone. She could go back to reading her novel, but really all she had been doing was reading since yesterday morning when they boarded. And the characters had only grazed knuckles. The banter between them was great, but how long until the man at least kissed her hand?

         A bath sounded nice. A short reprieve from the outside world, which to be honest already felt far away while she floated in the middle of the ocean.

         She entered the bathroom and was immediately met by her appearance. Her black hair was tangled but there were no signs of white at first glance. Still, she ran her hands through the strands. No white. That was good because she hadn't brought any hair dye. With the Morozkos being the ones to hunt her, should the white appear, she couldn't stand having her hair mock her each and every time she looked in a mirror.

         If having the white would actually aid in disguising her, she'd let it stay. Gratefully so.

         The white would come back though, and if she knew her magic, it would be at the most inconvenient time possible.

*****

         Faryn was still in the tub when Peter returned and then later when the Fata walked into the suite. Faryn sunk deeper into the room-temperature water, lips curling upward as Peter berated Cassian for leaving.

         Though later that evening when they had shut off the lights and Faryn was crawling between her sheet, Peter asked Cassian how he had enjoyed his evening. Content that a fight wasn't going to break out, she burrowed deep into the covers, listening to their voices go back and forth. Maybe she was desperate for sleep, but their voices soothed her, and the gentleness of their tones reminded her of the voices on a meditation app on her old phone.