Dead bodies had a way of stealing one's focus.

After Aeden sat us down and told my brother and I how fabulously things had gone while we slept, there was a long silence. He'd moved us a ways down the hill, but Shayne's corpse was visible behind him. Ronan chose to stare anywhere else, looking vaguely nauseous. My eyes strayed to it.

His throat had been slit perfectly, if such a brutal wound could be called perfect. There was no jaggedness to the cut. With his head angled as it was, it appeared as thin and harmless as a scratch along the length of his neck. A scratch that had spilled enough blood to soak the entirety of his front. It formed a pool that still trickled outwards, staining the grass, clotting in his fine hair. The harsh moonlight coloured it black, as if he'd bled ink.

I had already gathered it wasn't Aeden's doing. He fought with teeth and claws, while Shayne's death had been brought about by a blade. Even so, hearing that Morrigan—sweet, delicate Morrigan—had killed the man came as a shock. Perhaps it shouldn't have. She was still a sídhe, an old one. Death was something she lived and breathed.

The woman in question had her feet tucked beneath her, hugging her chest. Her braided hair was mussed and her eyes were wet, but she did not flinch or turn away under my scrutiny. Despite it all, of course, she bore her usual elegance. There wasn't a speck of blood on her.

Funnily enough, Aeden was the most withdrawn of us all. He'd relayed everything plainly, his tone flat and almost disinterested. His usual fidgeting had ceased, save for one hand with which he restlessly yanked at the grass. A small mound of torn blades rested by his knee. I'd often wished for him to stop moving so much, but I missed his energy at that moment. Apathy didn't suit him.

It didn't escape me that there were pieces missing from his explanation: namely, how the hell Cael had managed to bring him to the hilltop. Knowing Aeden, I couldn't imagine it had just been because I was in a tight spot. He wasn't fool enough to surrender over something like that.

He also left out what had happened before Morrigan arrived. It wasn't hard to guess Shayne had tried to kidnap him again, but he bore no wounds or burn marks. While grateful for that, it only fed my wariness. What could've happened that he'd feel the need to hide it?

Ronan spoke before I could, his gaze focused on Morri. Most wouldn't be able to notice it, but there was trepidation mixed within his concern. He was surprised, too. "Are you alright, Morrigan?"

"I will be," she said. "Shayne was beyond reason, and all of you were in danger. It... it was the best choice I could make. I don't regret it."

The uncertainty faded from my brother's eyes as he examined her. He shifted closer, resting a comforting hand on her arm. She allowed the gesture. A feeble smile even flickered across her lips, and she leaned slightly into his touch.

Ronan caught my gaze; I lifted my brows, smirking, and he hastily looked away. Eejit.

"That's the spirit, Morri." Aeden's quip fell flat. He continued to abuse the grass, deliberately ignoring the body just beyond his shoulder.

"I'm impressed you managed to get so close. I could hear your jewellery from the bottom of this hill," I muttered.

Morrigan stilled, staring at me, and then laughed. "I have ways to move silently."

"So you make the usual racket on purpose?"

"Oh, no, don't question her sparkles." Setting aside a dead stalk, Aeden cast me a wan grin. "I can only handle so many dark secrets at once."

I grumbled to myself. Weariness tugged at me—the sun was still out of reach, and unease boiled in my gut like a pot left over a fire too long. There was a nick on my own throat I didn't remember receiving. The ghost of pain throbbed in my thigh, though the wound had sealed some time ago. "And Cael really just... left?"

"Aye," Aeden replied. He didn't bother to look up. "It's not as if he had reason to stay."

"When I find that man, we will have words," I growled. He'd netted me into my dreams with painful ease: I'd had a vague sense that something was wrong as I slept, but hadn't been able to do a single thing about it. It was driving me mad. If not for Morrigan's intervention, Aeden would have been taken again. Ronan could've been attacked in our absence. I might have died, killed in my sleep like a feeble calf. Was I really so weak?

Aeden snorted. "I had the same idea."

"We should go together, then. You could track him down for me." I gestured vaguely. "Sniff him out of whatever hole he crawls into."

"Anything for you, Mae." The taunt sounded oddly serious. He looked down, picking at another innocent blade of grass.

My eyes rolled to the sky. The moon hung above us, veiled behind a low-hanging belt of clouds. They moved quickly, stained a dark blue shade. "So," I said. "What did he do to you?"

Ronan stiffened, exchanging a nervous glance with Morri. The two of them could probably tell I intended to press hard this time, but neither stopped me.

Aeden made a show of turning around to check on Shayne. The man was still, in fact, dead. "Would you like me to make a list?"

"No, you eejit. Cael."

"Well, he didn't treat you very well. And he dragged me all the way here."

"I know that," I sighed, resting my elbows on my knees. "How? He's weaker than you."

Aeden's eyes strayed. His fingers jolted into motion, drumming a jittery rhythm on the torn earth. "He messed with my mind. Caught me off guard."

Either he was truly exhausted, or I was getting better at reading him. There was anger in his eyes, but it wasn't directed at something as simple as that. I rolled my tongue between my teeth, watching him. "You're lying."

"Am I?" He met my gaze, his expression shuttering. Only wariness lingered, almost as if he thought I would try to hurt him. A ridiculous notion. Had he forgotten the vow I'd made to him?

"Well, it isn't the whole truth. Are you hurt? Something's clearly wrong with you," I snapped. "I want to help, Aeden. Let me help."

Hesitance edged into his eyes. He opened his mouth—for a moment, I hoped he'd be honest with me. Then he paused, shaking his head, and returned his focus to the ground. "It's nothing."

"Oi," I growled, staring him down. "We're travelling together. We have been for weeks. Whatever problem you have, it's also mine, and Ronan's, and Morri's." I jerked my chin in the direction of Shayne's body. "Obviously."

Ronan leaned forward, offering a smile in the absence of Aeden's usual humour. "I'm afraid that's the closest she can get to saying she cares about you."

It was a decent attempt to lighten the mood, but it only seemed to make the other man's antsy demeanour worse. He began to fidget, picking at a tear on the leg of his pants. "Can we not do this later?" he asked, a desperate, pleading note in his voice. "It's been a long day, and I'd like to sleep."

"It could become dangerous if you don't tell them," Morrigan said quietly. "They ought to know."

"I've had about enough of people telling me what's dangerous or not." Aeden's fingers dug into the tear, opening it further. He released a sharp breath and jerked his hands away. "Damn it, Morrigan. Why must you notice everything?"

Her eyes fell, and she turned one of her rings. "I'm sorry. It's your decision."

Annoyance sawed at me. "The hell are you two talking about?"

"Morri could explain." His words were bitter.

"I wouldn't do that to you," she replied. "You know that, right?"

Aeden shook his head, his unruly, black hair swaying with the movement. He needs to cut it, whispered a voice in the back of my head that sounded very much like Mam.

I cast the thought aside. "Do you need us to swear to secrecy or something?"

"No," Aeden snapped, quite suddenly. Agitation scrawled across his face; he scooted closer and grabbed my wrist, pressing my hand on his chest. His skin was feverishly hot. "Just—just focus on me. You should sense it."

Meeting his uncertain gaze, I concentrated upon the feel of his soul. There weren't many other ways I knew to examine somebody closely. Without the sun to draw from, it felt as if I were peering at him through a thick mist. I detected no trace of the Ándúr Nimh, which was good.

But, centred within the haze, there was a geas. It was a powerful one, fresh and bound about the young man like a serpent. I stiffened when my senses brushed against its sharp edges, as if it could cut me. This one was no small, delicately worded vow—it was solid, significant, something that already shadowed his every step.

My thoughts rustled against one another, brittle and dry. Aeden held his cards close. The only vow he'd made to me had been simple, with an easy out. He treated his words as if they would turn around and bite him. Despite his efforts, it seemed they finally had.

"What did you promise?" I asked, unnerved.

"That I won't let you die." He fumbled over the answer; I felt his chest heaving beneath his cape. "Have you noticed I'm unable to keep any secrets from you, Mae? It's very disheartening. I might lose all my mysterious charm."

Despite the attempt to sweep it aside with a joke, the severity of the geas lodged in my stomach. That was all someone like Shayne or Cael would need to subdue him, especially if I was rendered vulnerable. "Aeden..."

"You bound yourself to her? For life?" Ronan winced sympathetically. A distant, silly part of me wondered if I should be insulted.

"Seems that way, doesn't it?" He cracked a strained smile, a silent challenge entering his eyes. "What do you think, everybody? I suppose you could have me do whatever you wanted, if you—"

"Don't insult us. Do you really think we'd do that?" I pulled my hand away from him, power flooding my veins with a soft heat. There was no reason to hesitate. He'd shackled his life to mine. I'd do whatever I could to soften that burden. "I will never use that geas against you. I swear it."

"Nor will I," Morrigan added solemnly.

Ronan cleared his throat. "I certainly won't. Maeve is my sister, and you're a friend."

The tension ebbed from Aeden, giving way to faint surprise. He dipped his head in a nod, his eyes on Ronan. At his acknowledgement, the promise took weight between them. Ronan frowned, placing a hand on his chest. I'd never held him to any pacts, human to sídhe, so this must've been the first time he'd felt the tether of a geas. Worry stirred in me as I watched him, but this vow wasn't one that could be used to hurt him—unlike Aeden's.

The young man in question fidgeted, his smile softening into something more genuine. "Hah... You three shouldn't go about making geasa so carelessly. It could land you in trouble."

I snorted. "You're shameless."

"Me? I'm always in some form of trouble. This is nothing special." Despite how smoothly it rolled off his tongue, the lie was obvious. He tugged at one of the now-loose bandages on his wrist, revealing the raw cuts and burn marks that marred his skin. He cleared his throat. "But I... appreciate the gestures."

"Don't. You wouldn't have been in that situation if I hadn't—" I gritted my teeth, nearly losing my composure. My hands clenched. "If I hadn't been so helpless."

"You're not helpless," Morrigan said softly. "Not even I could stop Cael's attack while I was asleep."

Aeden waved a deceptively airy hand. "It was my mistake, Mae. Nobody could force me to say it."

"I don't want you bound to me." Shame burned my cheeks. "It's unfair."

"Well, if you find a way to break the geas without killing one of us, let me know," he said dryly. His lips quirked. "At least you have a free guard dog, no?"

"Not necessarily. If I die and you aren't there, you didn't let it happen," I speculated. "You could leave now."

"I've thought of that." He scratched the back of his neck, his gaze wandering restlessly. "But abandoning you three at this point doesn't sit right with me. I want to help you finish this."

I waited until he looked at me again, searching his eyes. In the darkness of night, they looked more grey than green. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Pardon?"

"You're acting suspiciously selfless." I took his wrist to retie the bandage—he looked dangerously close to scratching at the half-sealed wounds. Again.

Aeden stiffened under my touch, but only for a moment. He propped his chin on one knee as I worked, chuckling quietly. "You think I'm being selfless?"

"That's not at all what I said."

"I'm a gallant hero in your eyes now, is that it? A noble soul."

"An eejit."

He pressed his free hand to his heart. "A changed man."

"Delusional, more like." I smoothed the cloth over his wrist and tied it off, sighing. "There. Stop fidgeting with it."

Aeden's gaze lingered on me before he drew back, weariness tainting his smile. "You ask so much of me."

"You'll manage." I clambered to my feet, glancing at Ronan and Morri. She gazed at the moon with haunted eyes; my brother was nodding off. "It's still night," I said. "We should get out of the open and sleep. Or try to."

The events of the last day left me little confidence—every single one of us was still tense—but it would be dangerous to push forward like this. Morrigan and I would manage without rest, but I worried about the men. Ronan was only human, and Aeden had been sleeping poorly since... well, since we'd met. Sídhe or not, it wouldn't be long until his energy ran out entirely: and he seemed to be nearing that limit.

My brother stood slowly, offering a hand to Morrigan. "Let's get back, then." He caught my eye and flashed a reassuring, albeit wan, smile. "There should be less to worry about, and it doesn't seem like any storms are coming."

"Right." I snagged Aeden's elbow to haul myself up. My eyes roved over his shoulder, where Shayne's body lay abandoned on the hilltop. Sleep or not, it wouldn't do to stay. The scent of blood was beginning to stale, and nothing pleasant was to be had in the company of a corpse.