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Dessin gives him a quick, agitated glance. “No.”
No? Isn’t he the infamous Patient Thirteen? The man who would take down armies just to get to Skylenna? He’d never let anyone hurt her. Especially not Kaspias.
“Are you kidding? Now you decide to be a pacifist?” Niles exclaims.
“My girl has leaned on me like a crutch for too long.” Dessin stops pacing. “She’s so fucking powerful. I must let her grow into that power. I can’t stunt her growth by slaying her monsters again, not when she can so easily do it herself.” Even as he says these words, I can see how much he’s trying to convince himself of them. How much he wants to break through this cage, how much he wants to hold her in his arms and tell her that she’s safe.
“She can handle this.” I nod. “After everything she’s been through, she can handle anything.”
My words hit a nerve because Dessin closes his eyes slowly, hanging his head.
It’s hard to hear, but true, nevertheless. We all watched as she held his dying body in her arms, trying to stop the blood. And when his heart stopped beating, her screams stretched on across the Midnight Sea, breaking us with the agonizing sound of her despair. She died right there with him.
This isn’t the same Skylenna.
She’s something stronger.
Something far more resilient.
I wish I were more like her. Because if the roles were reversed, this family would be risking their lives to save me.
“We’re going to be here for her when she returns,” Warrose says, hazel eyes firmly on Dessin. He steps closer to the bars that separate him from Skylenna’s empty cage, looking down absently at the floor she’s slept on. “We need to figure out a way around this ear magnet thing.”
Dessin blows out a humorless laugh. “That’s Skylenna’s job.”
“It is?”
Dessin nods.
“What’s your job?” He cocks an eyebrow. “What’s my job?”
“To come up with an escape plan. It’s just something we decided to split responsibilities.”
Warrose sighs, lowering himself to the floor. “Did that make her happy?”
Dessin’s chest moves up and down. His jaw tightens. Gaze planted on the rocky ground.
“Yes.”
“Seems like she’s wanted that for a long time.”
“She’s always wanted to be a part of my plans,” Dessin says quietly.
“Yeah? They’re not all butterflies and roses.” A flash of resentment tightens the muscles in Warrose’s back.
Dessin finally looks down at him. “I know we haven’t talked about it yet.”
The plan to fake his death. The plan Warrose had to bear the truth of alone. The plan to pray for Dessin’s revival, to watch Skylenna spiral, to standby unable to give her solace.
“Fine by me.” Warrose crosses his thick arms over his chest. “I thoroughly enjoy staying mad at you.”
Dessin’s mouth tics.
I instantly became aware of heavy breathing beside me. Rotating my head to the left, I see Niles watching the conversation play out with radiant glee. His face pressed between the bars, mouth open in a slight smile, and round eyes bouncing from Warrose to Dessin.
Marilynn keeps her eyes on her lap to at least give the illusion that she isn’t eavesdropping.
“Niles!” I whisper, snickering.
