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As I slip under the blankets, my cold toes touch his warm leg, and he shifts, rolling onto his side.
“Skylenna.” A tenderness to his tone, a sweet husky whisper that I know must belong to Kane. I tuck myself under the blankets, pretending like I didn’t hear him.
“You don’t have to talk or even acknowledge me, but there’s something I have to say. I hope you’ll listen.”
I swallow, closing my eyes, wishing I could will myself to fall into a deep sleep. I don’t want to hear anything he has to say.
“We’re going to rescue DaiSzek tomorrow. But before we do, I needed to tell you that”—he takes a breath—“we have no intention of ever answering your questions, telling you how we know what we know, or filling in the blank spaces of your memory.”
My eyes shoot open. Is he joking?
“We want you to figure it out yourself. I know you don’t know how to do that right now, but I promise you will. You’ll learn how we met, the history we share, the reason we did all of this. And when you do, please know how sorry I am. I didn’t want to plan it this way. I didn’t want to keep you in the dark. It wasn’t my choice.”
He sighs, running his fingers through my hair. My heart dips at his touch, and I shut my eyes, not wanting to like it.
“But I’m the one who will live with that choice until my last breath.”
Kane leans over me, then places a long kiss against my temple. My nose is reluctantly filled with his sweet scent of cedar. I want to lean into him, turn my face and bury it in his warm, solid chest.
“You have to go back and figure it out yourself,” he whispers in my ear. “You have to be brave. And please, please… remember me.”
We eat breakfast in silence. Six of us dressed in tight, yet breathable hiking attire. Forest-green fabric to blend in. Ruth and I have matching ponytails, pulled high and tight on top of our heads.
We exchange glances between bites, silently acknowledging the building tension.
I just need to get DaiSzek back. Then, maybe, I can figure out how to move forward with Kane and Dessin. But I can’t sift through my feelings, can’t offer any solutions on how to heal or understand what’s happening. All that matters is saving DaiSzek, keeping him away from the meat carnivals.
“Chekiss is staying here,” Dessin announces, looking down at his food. “The rest of us will move out with a unit of twenty-five men in an hour.”
I look back at Chekiss, who is holding a hand up to me, stopping my words before I let them out. “It’s okay. I’ll only slow you down.”
“Only twenty-five men? Shouldn’t we bring an entire army?” Niles drops his fork with a loud clank.
Dessin shakes his head. “No. We need to sneak up on them without setting off any of their traps. I can’t do that with an entire army at my back.”
It makes sense. He works best alone.
“You’re actually letting me and Niles come with?” Ruth asks skeptically.
It is odd. We’ve only just started training. And the only reason he’s letting me come along is because I’m not giving him another option. But why Niles and Ruth?
Dessin is quiet for a moment. “Consider this another form of training. You’ll stay out of the way and do exactly what Warrose or I tell you. No going rogue,”—he shoots me a glare—“or improvising. You’re there to watch. To witness how special operations are done. That’s all.”
He did say he wanted them to be a part of this. He won’t always be here to protect us. I can understand the weight he carries for that. At least this way he’s preparing us the best way he knows how.
The group nods in agreement. But Warrose remains quiet, moving his food around with his fork. Before I can ask him if he’s okay, the dining hall door opens, scraping against the hardwood floors.
Aurick and three of his personal guards walk in. The chatter in the room goes quiet, tapering out to hushed conversation and whispers.
Dessin doesn’t even look up from his meal as they approach us.
“The unit is ready whenever you are.” Aurick nods to Dessin.
But Dessin does not look up. Does not acknowledge his existence.
Aurick clears his throat, running a hand over his black suit. “I hope you’ll remember this when I need something from you.”
Still, no answer. My stomach twists at the blatant awkwardness piling in the center of our group.
