Free The Sharpest Blade by Sandy Williams

side. When he sees the sleeping human, he asks, “Why is he here?”
    “To tie a vigilante to my bed.”
    He’s silent too long, and when I look at him again, his eyebrows are raised, waiting.
    I give him a brief summary. He listens without comment, and that unnerves me. He’s not acting like himself. He’s usually relaxed and carefree, not quiet and tense.
    “The blood on you is from him?” Aren asks, kneeling.
    “No. Some of it’s mine. Some of it is Kyol’s.” I wince when I say Kyol’s name out loud. It feels like I’m driving a dagger into Aren’s heart. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t give any indication that I’m hurting him now, but I feel like crap all the same. Kyol is the reason why Aren’s stayed away from me these past three weeks. Aren was furious when he learned about our life-bond. The only reason he didn’t strike Kyol down instantly was because he knew how much Kyol meant to me.
    But, apparently, Aren doesn’t know how much
he
means to me. I tried to tell him that I was his, that the life-bond didn’t change anything, but he wouldn’t listen. He was too hurt and angry to accept my words then. I think he might still be too hurt and angry to accept them now.
    “Most of the blood is from the fae at the
tjandel
,” I say past the lump in my throat.
    Aren looks up. “The
tjandel
? You were in the Realm?”
    “Yeah,” I say. “Briefly.”
    His jaw clenches, and his silver eyes remain locked on mine for a handful of heartbeats. I don’t know what thoughts are in his head. He used to be open with me. He’d tell me what he was thinking and planning even when I didn’t want to hear it. Now he just lowers his gaze back to Lee and asks in a completely neutral tone, “Why were you there?”
    Because Kyol was hurt.
But I won’t say his name out loud again. Instead, I tell Aren, “The
elari
ambushed a group of swordsmen.”
    He unsheathes the dagger that’s on his left hip.
    “You know about the false-blood,” he says as he carefully cuts off the bandage Kyol wrapped around Lee’s ribs.
    “Lena told me,” I say, watching Aren place his hand over the gash in the human’s side. Lee doesn’t budge, not even when one of Aren’s chaos lusters darts across his rib cage.
    Oh, crap.
    “Is he dead?” I ask, squatting next to the couch. “I’m going to kill him if he is. He’s not, is he?”
    “No,” Aren says quietly. “He’s not dead.”
    Is that a smile on Aren’s lips? I stare at his mouth while he heals Lee, but the more I look for any slight bending of his lips, the more I doubt what I thought I saw.
    He must feel me watching him. His head starts to turn my way, but then, he stiffens. His jaw clenches with what I’m certain is determination, and he locks his gaze back on Lee.
    “Aren—”
    “I’m finished,” he says quickly, rising.
    I stand, too. “Can we talk?”
    “No.”
    His response is so terse, it feels like I’ve been punched. “No?”
    “There’s nothing . . .” His words fade when he looks at me again. He seems agitated, torn, and I hate that he’s this distressed.
    “This is about the life-bond?” I ask. He doesn’t answer for a long time. He just stands there, staring at me with apprehension in his silver eyes.
    “If it weren’t for that . . .” He swallows. “If it weren’t for that, I’d never leave your side.”
    I give a short, sharp laugh as my stomach does a somersault. “If you think I’ll let you go after saying
that
, then the In-Between must have screwed with your head.”
    “I—” He snaps his mouth shut, shakes his head at himself. “Then I didn’t mean it.”
    There’s a slight smile on his lips, and
finally
, his eyes are lighter, less serious. I want to kiss him again. I want our arms wrapped around each other, our bodies pressed close, but when I take a step toward him, he takes a step back.
    “McKenzie.” He retreats another step. This time, an infuriated squeak cuts through the air.
    Aren nearly falls onto the