He clenched his jaw at the accusation, but he didn’t say anything because she was right.

She continued, more softly, “Sometimes it’s really hard to trust that. If we were in any kind of normal situation back home in New York, I wouldn’t have exchanged two sentences with you. I probably would have called 911 at the first sign of any of this cloak-and-dagger stuff.”

“I know,” he muttered. “This is far outside anything you’ve ever had to deal with before, and I don’t blame you for having doubts. And I was the one who told you that you needed to be wary of me.”

“Yes,” she murmured. She smoothed her hands across his chest. “Yet despite that, and despite the fact that you keep hoarding information about yourself, I still ended up trusting you anyway.”

And despite the fact that he tried to hoard information about himself, snippets still kept escaping, a little here, a little there. Some things, like the telepathy, were pieces she didn’t know how to put together yet, but she was bright, curious, and tenacious, and she was right. Sooner or later, all the pieces would come together and she would figure out who he was, but he was determined to delay that moment as long as possible.

When she did discover his identity, he thought it very likely she would not want to have anything more to do with him. And even if, by some miracle, she did, they would still need to keep their relationship a secret.

Isabeau must never connect them together or realize how much Sidonie had come to mean to him. If she ever discovered that, her hold over him would be complete. All she would have to do is threaten to have Sidonie tortured or killed, and Morgan would do whatever she wanted without resistance.

And he could never find ways to retaliate against Isabeau as long as she held Sidonie captive. He would lose the last corner of his soul that he had fought so hard to keep.

Her hands slid down to his waist, and she traced the edge of his bandages, murmuring, “How is your injury?”

“It’s getting better,” he said. “It’s healing well.”

“Good.”

As soothing as Sidonie’s touch was, he still couldn’t let their argument go. He said accusingly, “But Warrick!”

She laughed softly, but it didn’t sound amused. “Believe me, the thought didn’t sit well with me either.”

He had to feed his own addiction. He touched her neck lightly, and rubbed her cheek with the ball of one thumb. Her skin felt softer than a rose petal. Suddenly, he wanted to lick her all over, wanted it so badly his whole body went taut.

To distract himself from the temptation, he asked, “How did you discover I wasn’t Light Fae? What did I do to give myself away?”

“It was when we kissed last night.” Slipping her arms around his waist, she leaned against him and rested her head on his chest. “I ran my fingers through your hair, remember?”

“I do.” The memory heated his blood.

“It was only after you left that I realized your ears weren’t pointed,” she told him, her voice muffled against his shirt. “You couldn’t be Light Fae.”

Not yet able to smile at her cleverness, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “And your busy mind did the rest.”

“Of course. I told you, I can’t let go of things. And then I ran into Warrick.” She shuddered. “I didn’t want to think you and he might be the same man, but I also didn’t know any differently.”

His arms tightened. “Okay, fair enough,” he said. “For your information, there are several men around the castle and in town who look human but aren’t, and more should be arriving over the next few weeks. Take care around them, because they’re all dangerous.”

“Oh, great.”

He could just imagine her expression accompanying that. Biting back a smile, he added, “There are also a few humans scattered throughout the town. They’re the last surviving descendants of what had once been a thriving human kingdom in Avalon. There are a few other Races as well, so the population isn’t purely Light Fae. You just haven’t seen evidence of the others yet.”

She stirred in his arms. “What happened to the human kingdom?”

“Isabeau and Modred happened,” he replied curtly. “They killed the rulers, and either destroyed or drove off most of the population. Many of them fled to Great Britain. Isabeau has always been single-minded in consolidating her power base. Some years before, she had driven away her twin sister, along with anyone who supported her, and once the humans had been conquered, she claimed all Avalon as her own.”

“Does she have any redeeming qualities whatsoever?” Sid demanded.

A quiet snort escaped him. “I’m the wrong person to ask,” he said dryly. After a moment’s thought, he added, “I suppose there may be one thing. She doesn’t tolerate rape, especially in wartime—at least, she doesn’t tolerate physical rape. Clearly, she has no issue with using magical coercion. But physical rape is a capital offense, and soldiers who are found guilty of it are beheaded.”

Sid shook her head. “She may not tolerate rape, but she still embraces torture and, apparently, genocide too. She also has no problem with keeping people in captivity, coercing them to do her bidding, and throwing them in prison whenever she gets a stick up her ass. I’m feeling no compulsion to rush to be her friend.”

“Nor I, but let’s not waste any more time talking about her.” Loosening his hold, he clasped one of her hands and led her to the narrow bed, where he sat and leaned his back against the wall. “We’re able to get so little time together as it is.”

“I agree.” She readily climbed onto the bed too and curled against his side.

Pulling her close, he buried his nose in her short, clean hair. There were no perfumes to clog up his sinuses when he inhaled, just her pure, feminine scent.

The fact that she came so readily to his arms was a towering miracle. Sharing this one moment of peace was a rarity so fragile and precious it was almost indescribable.

It was too bad he had to shatter it.

Bracing himself inwardly, he said, “I have some news. I should have told you about it yesterday, but there has been a lot to deal with, and the most important thing was for us to find a way for you to play for Isabeau tomorrow.”

And the truth was, he hadn’t wanted to tell her. It was another piece of himself that he had to let go. But the stakes were too high for him to keep silent.