I shrug. “I carried you.”
His eyes flare wider. “You’re foolin’ me.”
“No. I balanced you across my shoulders. You’re not that heavy.”
“I’m too heavy for a wee thing like you to lug up a mountain,” he says with a snort that makes my lips twitch.
“I’m stronger than I look. Especially when wards aren’t making me feel like I’ve got stones in my pockets.”
“Obviously.” His brows lift, and a new respect flickers in his eyes. “Remind me not to make you angry.”
“Hopefully you won’t need reminding.” I barely recognize my own voice. I sound…playful. Light and airy—like Adrina when she teased Declan for looking in the mirror too long after we washed our hair.
“I won’t.” He eases closer, his smile fading. “I’m so glad you’re all right. When I woke and couldn’t find you, I imagined all sorts of awful things.” He lifts his hand, cupping my cheek. “Scared me half to death.”
My lips part and my insides shiver a little, the way they do when the wind catches beneath my raven wings, swooping me higher in the air.
I want to tell him I was scared, too. Scared that he wouldn’t wake up, or that he wouldn’t be himself if he did. Scared that my part in putting him in danger would haunt me forever, a terrible mistake I couldn’t erase.
But I can’t seem to transform my thoughts into words. I can’t remember the shapes my lips should make. I can’t recall why I fear the emotions tying me into such knots that I can only stand frozen, holding my breath as Declan presses a kiss to my forehead.
His lips are chapped and rough but also warm and alive in a way that makes me feel more alive than I did a second ago. I don’t know how, only that his kiss—his whisper of a kiss—feels a lot like magic.
Transformational. Dizzying…
The world around me is already spinning, even before a flurry of wings explodes near my ear, making me cry out and stumble away from Declan.
I cover my head with my hands, my heart racing, but after the initial rush of surprise, I know exactly what’s happened.
Or rather, who.
“Get! Shoo you mad thing!”
I turn to see Declan waving his arms at a bristling, cawing Poke. The Skritch has shifted into a giant crow, and every inky feather bristles around him like a drawn weapon. After one last jab of his wings at Declan’s face, he flaps into the air and circles above us, croaking out a call that sounds more like a growl than anything a bird should be capable of making.
I catch his flashing black eyes and narrow mine, torn between wagging a chastising finger at him and growing feathers and flying away with him.
Before I can decide, footsteps pound up the trail from the cottage. A scrawny boy with mischief-filled eyes and skin as brown as burnt toast dashes in between Declan and me, leaping and punching his fists in the air.
“I’ll get it! I’ll get it! Mean old crow,” he says.
His accent is more pronounced than Adrina’s, but I know this is Timon even before she calls, “Leave it alone, Timon, and quit shouting. You’ll scare Mother.” Adrina hurries up the trail, slightly breathless but smiling widely. “Come!” She squeezes my hand and claps Declan firmly on the shoulder. “Dinner is nearly ready, and Mother is beside herself with excitement. We haven’t had visitors in ages.” Adrina leans in and lowers her voice. “She’ll ask you five hundred questions, but you don’t have to answer. Don’t be afraid to tell her to mind her own business. She’s nosy, but harmless as a kitten.”
“What are you talking at, Adrina?” Timon leaps onto his sister’s back, making her stagger and groan theatrically before she laughs and loops her hands through his knees.
“I was telling our new friends about the kittens,” she says, hitching him higher on her back. “After we eat, you’ll have to show them the babies.”
“I will! Yes!” Timon grins, showcasing a mouth full of crooked teeth that seem too large for his mouth. “They are tough kitties. Their eyes are just open a few days, but already I teach them to fight!”
Adrina frowns and turns over her shoulder, speaking rapidly in Italian to her brother. She warns him to be gentle with the cats, to stop behaving like an animal, and to show some manners in front of the guests, then she threatens to make him sleep with the pigs if he embarrasses her.
I’m careful to keep my expression blank, not wanting Adrina or her family to know that I speak their language. I trust Adrina, but until I confirm that the rest of her people are as kind and harmless as she is, I like the idea of knowing what they’re saying without them knowing that I know.
Knowing without them knowing that I know.
The thought alone is enough to make my head hurt.
Deception is exhausting. I don’t know how humans manage so much of it in their short lives.
“Don’t be afraid, Clara. The rest of the family is much better than Timon,” Adrina calls over her shoulder, making me realize that she, Timon, and Declan have started down the dirt path to the cottage without me. “He is the only crazy one.”
“I am not crazy!” Timon’s protest turns to a squeal as Adrina wiggles a finger into his ribs, tickling him until he slides off her back and falls to the dust in a fit of giggles.
Declan smiles at the boy before turning back to me and holding out a hand.
I meet his gaze—so direct and hopeful—and shiver, suddenly feeling more naked than I did the day he pulled me from the sea.
I would swear he knows every thought and feeling in my head, that he can see through my skin to the magic still stirring inside of me.
New, bad magic.
Dangerous, forbidden magic.
Even if I wanted a boy in my life in that way, it’s impossible. I’m an immortal nightmare, a witch’s daughter fated to wander the earth for the rest of my days. Declan’s a priest’s son who will finish becoming a man on his father’s island, start a family there someday, and grow old and die while I remain unchanged.
We are from two entirely different worlds. There is no common ground for us and not much time left. In three days, I will leave this island with Wig and Poke and likely never see Declan again.
That’s the only way this can end, and the sooner I start behaving accordingly, the easier goodbye will be for both of us.
Shoving my hands into my dress’s pockets, I stroke Wig’s soft fur as I hurry to catch up, passing Declan to walk beside Adrina, pretending not to notice the way his shoulders sag when I ignore his outstretched hand.
This is for the best, my friend.
No matter how much it hurts.
Chapter Ten
Declan
I shouldn’t have kissed her.
I knew that, but I couldn’t help myself. Whenever I’m close to Clara, I always want to be closer, to wrap her in my arms, hold her tight, keep her safe.
And keep myself safe while I’m at it.
I don’t want to imagine a world without Clara in it. I don’t want to imagine my life without Clara. I have questions pouring out of my ears about her mother and family—things I can’t wait to ask her when we’re alone, assuming we’re ever alone again—but learning she’s half witch hasn’t changed the way I feel about her.