Still without speaking, he released his hold on her right hand and removed his shirt.

She lifted her gaze to his. “What are you doing?”

“You need nourishment.” He slid farther onto the bed. “I am here.”

Ani stayed where she was. She turned to watch him in a predatory way. In a very low voice, she asked, “What are you offering?”

“Skin contact.”

“Are you sure?” She took two steps forward so that the edge of the bed was against her. “I mean…”

He dropped his walls, so she could feel the things he would prefer she didn’t know. Craving. Fear. Doubt. Joy. Hope. Excitement. It was all there, emotion to feed her second appetite.

She knelt on the bed. “If you want me, why not—”

“You are not mine to keep, Ani.” He held out a hand. “If you were someone else… but you’re not.”

She removed her shirt and then took his hand. “I don’t get you, Dev.”

With a sigh of some emotion he didn’t know how to name, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. Her hand was splayed out on his stomach, and her cheek rested on his shoulder. Tendrils of damp pink-tipped hair brushed against his chest.

Devlin remained immobile. The only indication that he was alive was the rise and fall of his chest. He concentrated on keeping it this way and on hiding his emotions again. Her nearness frightened him, and he couldn’t bear the idea of her knowing how afraid or how happy he suddenly was.

Ani, however, seemed oblivious. After an hour or more of being silently curled into his arms, she pressed a single kiss to his chest—directly over his heart. “You confuse me.”

“You require contact. It’s a logical thing to supply it.” He relaxed a little though, his body and mind refusing to follow the reasonable path. Just for a moment, he let his fingertips graze her skin.

She sighed and pressed closer. “If we were in Faerie, and I wasn’t me, but just a faery… what would you say?”

“About?”

“If I was in your arms like this.”

“You wouldn’t be.” He smiled at her curiosity. “This isn’t done.”

“Being near each other? Are you saying there’s no sex in Faerie?” She lifted her head to stare at his face. “For real?”

“Of course there’s sex, but this”—he gestured at the two of them—“is not sex. Sex is a very different thing than what we are doing.”

“What about after?”

“After sex one bathes and dresses.” Devlin repressed a sigh of pleasure as she snuggled back into his arms. He’d never simply held anyone, not for pleasure or need or emotion.

“Faerie sounds horrible.” Ani shuddered a little. Absently, she began to trace some sort of pattern on his stomach.

“No, not horrible, just out of balance,” Devlin admitted the truth he hadn’t ever spoken aloud. His frequent trips to the mortal world had made him increasingly aware that the beauty of Faerie was missing something. Without shadows, the brightness was insufficient. The Dark Court’s prolonged absence from Faerie had created a void. Faerie was out of balance and had been for centuries.

Is that why Sorcha acts so unwell? He felt guilt at the thought, but it seemed shameful that the Queen of Order kept sending him off to check on a newly made faery.

“Dev?” Ani lifted her head to look at him. “You’re doing that not-really-here thing again.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and strangely, he was—not just for being aloof, but for the moments he’d missed over eternity by doing that very thing. Being reserved wasn’t something he enjoyed; being Sorcha’s creature wasn’t something he enjoyed. His pleasures were almost all found in the mortal world, where he could lower his self-control for a heartbeat here or there. What would Faerie be like if the Dark Court returned? The thought of it gave him an unfamiliar jolt. If the Dark Court returned home, there would be change in Faerie. And maybe… Ani. If not, if he couldn’t go to Faerie with her, maybe he could stay in the mortal world. Sorcha had remade Seth; she could make him her assassin. If not Seth, someone else. I could be free.

Devlin lifted one hand to caress Ani’s cheek. “I don’t want to be distant. I want to be near to you.”

She stilled, holding her breath for a moment.

He hadn’t had a plan beyond removing her from Bananach’s reach. “Until I know you’re safe, how am I to leave you?”

“Irial could keep me safe. He’s not bound to the court… Maybe he’d move, or I could hide. You don’t have to—”

“But I want to.” He traced the line of her jaw, pausing just under her lips.

“Want to what?”

“Everything.” He felt an unfamiliar nervousness.

“What are you offering?” she asked again, just as she had when he removed his shirt.

“Asking,” he corrected. “I’m asking to kiss you. May I?”

“Yes please,” she whispered.

It wasn’t the sort of consuming kiss they’d shared at the Crow’s Nest, not at first. For a brief few moments, it was the sort of kiss that he’d never had: exploring and careful, tasting and gentle. Then, Ani pressed against him like she was starving.

No logic. No negotiations.

She was stretched out beside him, and he rolled onto his hip so they were face-to-face.