“I won’t starve,” she turned toward Tamsin and Dyson. ”It’s okay for me to be hungry. It’s what I deserve.”

Tamsin sneered and clapped her hands together slowly. She did nothing to disguise her distaste for anything resembling self-pity. Dyson grabbed her hands to her lap to get her to stop. “Fine,” she glared at Dyson then at Bo. “Starvation. It’s what’s for dinner.”

It was then that Bo noticed that Dyson’s hands hadn’t left Tamsin’s, and her snarky look was slowly fading into one of tenderness. Their eyes, though weary, locked onto each other’s as Dyson rubbed his thumb in circles across the back of Tamsin’s hands. He brought his lips to her ears saying something that made her giggle and stare back at him just a little too long. The gesture might have made her feel jealous some time ago; instead, observing their deepening affection ratcheted up Bo’s loneliness.

”Look,” Bo sighed, “this was bound to happen, us getting on each other’s nerves. Maybe it’s time for a break. The two of you should take the night off. Go exploring. I’ll stay with Bruce.”

”You don’t need to tell me twice,” Tamsin lit up.

”I could go for a bite,” Dyson flirted with Tamsin, practically licking his lips.

”Famished, yeah,” she raised a single brow, ”me, too.” Tamsin slammed her laptop closed and jumped to her feet with renewed energy. Grabbing Dyson’s hand, she tugged him along with her as she hurried toward the door of the flat. ”Don’t wait up,” Bo heard her shout as the couple spirited out into the night.

Two seas, the Black Sea and the Sea of Marmara, spilled into the Bosporus Strait and divided the two shores of Istanbul, the only city on earth that was a part of Asia and Europe, straddling the old, the new, the west and the east. Bo would not have known this history—she had neither the affinity nor curiosity to study—but of emotions and the sensation of being divided, on this she could pen a lengthy thesis. How could a queen of a powerful, nearly immortal race be humbled by the weakest of creatures? She straddled two worlds, Fae and human, split, like the city of Istanbul, by the finest of lines. A tug of war raged on within her heart—to surrender or continue, which way to go—and, thinking she was alone, she gave into the exhaustion and disappointment of the last few weeks and cried.