“What do you mean, asking?”
He gives a lopsided grin that does nothing to hide his apprehension. Too bad I know his every tell and can recognize his lie for what it is.
“You’re letting them in. You’re inviting them in.”
His grin fades when my voice cracks. He takes a half step toward me, thinks better of it, and withdraws, wrapping his arms around himself. There’s no bravado left in his voice when he speaks again. “They aren’t very good at sharing what they know unless they get in here.” He taps a finger against his temple and frowns. “And, yes, if I’m not careful, they’ll share too much.”
His dark expression passes and when he looks up, he’s calm and controlled once more. “I’m getting better at it,” he assures me. “I’ve been practicing with them.”
The final threads of the story coming together. “I asked you not to take that risk again—”
“I don’t regret it.” Such determination in his hazel eyes. “If letting them in means I can protect you and stop the war, it’s worth the price.”
“So it hasn’t been you leading us through the Wylds. You’ve let them wear your skin?” I ask.
“I needed to get you away from Goodfellow,” he says, neatly sidestepping my question.
I won’t let him evade me. “Have you had any control over them?”
“Keir—”
“Answer the damn question.”
“Of course I’ve had control! I’m choosing this, Keir, and I know you hate it, but it’s my choice. I needed them and they were willing to help.”
“Is that why you haven’t let me near you?”
“No... I mean, yes, kind of, but not because of you so much as... They don’t understand the concept of space. I didn’t want them trying to reach out to you too. I didn’t want it to—” He grimaces and cuts himself off.
“It? What’s it?” I ask, though my heart already knows his answer.
For a moment, I think he’s going to deny the truth. But Lugh has never retreated from risky battles. He takes a deep breath and lifts his gaze to hold mine. “In the cottage, you asked how I defeated the draugr. I didn’t defeat it. I offered it sanctuary. I let it in and it’s been with me since. We’ve been working together, learning about each other.”
“It’s evil,” I whisper.
“It’s not,” Lugh argues. “It’s angry and violent because of its death. Because of its murder. Goodfellow was responsible. They’re tied to each other, and if we want to defeat Goodfellow, the draugr’s memories may help us.”
Was that what happened during his fight against Goodfellow?
“You nearly fell when you fought him,” I say. “How much of that battle was you?” When he doesn’t answer, I press, “Was it you, or was it the draugr fighting Goodfellow?”
“It was both of us,” Lugh says.
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“Oh?” Lugh tilts his head up to glare at me. “You’re telling me that when you transform, there’s no piece of you left in the bear? That you disappear and only the animal remains?”
“What? No, Lugh, that’s not... It’s not the same and you—”
“Is it still you under all the fur and teeth and claws?” he interrupts.
I can’t answer. Don’t know the answer. All my doubts about Queen Mab’s influence, about the things I’ve done when using her magick, seize my thoughts and leave me speechless.
“Oh, Keir.” His expression softens and the gentleness in his voice when he speaks nearly undoes me. “Why were you so angry with me for hugging you the first time you transformed?”
He’d been fearless, running forward to clasp his arms around my neck despite Cybel’s warnings to wait. “You put yourself at risk.”
“No, I didn’t.”