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It’s a noun and a verb.”

He smiled broadly. “If I may ask, how are you feeling about the outcome of the testing? I mean, an hour ago you were unceremoniously swept back into the fae fold.”

“I don’t know yet. It’s all too fresh. I mean, I’m upset this was discovered now and not when I was sixteen. If I’d known then it would have been odd, but life would have mostly continued as normal. But I have a whole other life now, and I don’t have an interest in living here with other fae. What am I going to do about that?”

“I can imagine finding out now is upsetting. But, what do you think about being a Null?”

Becka laughed, hearing him use the term in conversation gave her a sense of ownership. “That’s easy. I have no feelings on the matter.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Look, I don’t even know what being a Null might mean. Heck, the testers barely understand it.” She shrugged. “I’m some sort of a magical jinx? All magic I touch dies?”

“I do not feel dies is the right term.”

“Okay, falls apart? Breaks?”

Quinn shrugged.

“Exactly. What use is that? Who knows? I’m sure I’ll figure it out in time, but I can’t imagine the fae will want me around much unless they want all of their pretty things broken. Which is fine with me, because I don’t relish the thought of being around them either.”

“I am sure Duchess Maura has a plan.”

“Agreed, and I dread it already.”

They walked in silence for a minute. Becka knew she should head back to the manor, but also wanted to put off returning as long as possible. The setting sun picked that moment to crest the mountainous horizon and the evening light shifted in tone, surrounding them with an ambient amber glow. Shades of orange, pink, and red painted the clouds above the horizon, creating the illusion they were on fire.

Becka shivered, despite the balmy summer air.

“We should be getting back for dinner,” Quinn said, motioning for her to take a path to the right, and Becka followed his lead.

“I am surprised, but relieved, that your trust in me appears repaired,” Quinn said.

“Your explanation was convoluted, but I can’t imagine the pressures you face in your job.” Becka stopped, placing a hand on his arm. “Please, however many guards Maura and Brent place on me, I want you to stay with me.”

Quinn drew close to her, gently cupping the line of her jaw in his fingers. The heat in his burnished amber eyes reminded her of their kiss from the night before. “I am not going anywhere, Becka. But I also appreciate the guards being assigned. It will only add to your safety.”

She nodded, leaning into the contact as a near-electric surge ran from the tips of her ears all the way down to her toes. “It’s just, I don’t know them,” she stammered. “I haven’t known you long, but with all you’ve shared with me I feel I can trust you.”

“It takes a long time before we know people,” Quinn muttered under his breath. Then louder, he said, “Of course. I can always say it is on orders from Chief Elowen.”

“Wouldn’t that be lying?”

“Nope. Those were Elowen’s orders at the start. She has great instincts.”

“Do you think she figured more threats would appear?” Becka turned and headed back towards the manor.

“Elowen is always convinced all hell is about to break loose.”

Becka laughed, and then sobered when she realized he was deadly serious.

“That’s the rub. She’s usually spot on.”

The conversation had left Becka with a general sense of discomfort. After a few moments of silence, Lagan of House Holly sauntered around the end of a row of yellow tea roses and headed purposefully in her direction, unconcerned with the guards focusing their attention on his approach.

“What could he want?” Becka asked. Was he here to flirt with her again? He wouldn’t get far, not with all of the guards nearby.

“I could signal to the guards to redirect him?” Quinn offered.

She shrugged. “Nah, I’d prefer to tell him off myself.”

Lord Lagan stopped a few feet away, now flanked by two fae guards.  “Lady Becka,” he inclined his head.

“Lord Lagan,” she replied. “I thought I made my lack of interest clear the last time we spoke?”

“You did, and I apologize for perhaps coming on too strong when we last spoke. I overstepped.”

“Yeah you did,” she nodded.

A look of surprise at her candor passed over his face, but he continued. “But that is not why I am here today. Your mother, the Duchess, asked me to speak with you. You may not be familiar, but House Holly presides over life transitions. We have ceremonies for births, deaths, rebirths, and such as. I personally specialize in rebirths and life changes, often traveling far and wide between fae territories to aid those who are stuck to visualize a new future beyond their pain.”

Becka held up a hand to stop him. “Maura sent you to talk to me about my new gift?”

He inclined his head again. “Your mother is concerned for your wellbeing, and, as I’m already here, I offered to assist however I may. Adapting to change can be difficult, even for the best of us.”

“Your answer is talk therapy?”

A look of shock passed over his face. “Not at all! I have the ability to journey inwards and see and experience events from your point of view, as you experience them. From this vantage I can assist your transformative process in ways talk therapy never could.”

“Uh huh, and how do you expect that to work on me? I assume Maura filled you in on the nature of my gift? I break magic.”

“I will admit this is a special case,” Lagan replied, his expression concerned. “My normal process will be hampered, but with your aid will persevere through alternatives.”

“Like...talk therapy?” Becka asked.

He waved her off. “I feel my methods are less important than the results.” He withdrew a sealed letter from his pocket. “This is from the

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