“What is there to say?” Luka countered, annoyed that now they suddenly wanted his opinion, when for the last two weeks they’d been arguing with him.
“Are you even trying to help her?” the male snarled. “Do you even care at this point?”
Of course he fucking cared.
That was the entire godsdamn problem.
He cared about Theon.
He cared about Axel.
And damn it all to the Pits of Torment, he cared about Tessa when he absolutely fucking shouldn’t.
He’d gone in a godsdamn circle. Wanting her and denying himself, forced to spend time with her, finally having her, and now back to not wanting to want her.
The Fates were cruel.
“Tristyn makes valid points.”
Luka turned to his father, finding him standing across the room on his own. Razik wouldn’t give him the time of day, and Eliza, while not blindly loyal to her mate, was still standing firmly beside him. Cienna and Gia had claimed seats on the sofa now that Tessa had left, and Luka took a bite of his sandwich, waiting for the male to go on.
Xan crossed his arms, mirroring Razik’s stance and one that Luka often found himself in. “She’s too quiet. Chaos is never quiet.”
“This is information that would have been helpful a couple decades ago, Xan,” Tristyn bit out, pulling a roll of lull-leaf from his jacket pocket and lighting it up before dragging a hand through his hair that immediately fell back into his eyes.
His glowing sage eyes.
“We didn’t know. Nobody knew what she would grow to be. Everyone has been waiting and watching,” Xan replied.
“But you had to have had an idea,” Tristyn argued.
“Everyone had ideas, including Rordan and Valter,” Xan retorted. “You’ve seen firsthand how they tried to prepare for what she could be. We all failed in this the moment we lost her.”
“We lost track of her. They lost track of her. The fucking Fates lost track of her,” Tristyn said, blowing out a plume of smoke. His entire body was already relaxing, the tension bleeding out of his limbs. “But the day you placed that babe in my arms, you?—”
The sound of a plate clattering to the table interrupted whatever Blackheart was saying, and all eyes turned toward Luka, where his half-eaten sandwich was now on the table.
“Surely I misheard the two of you because it sounded likeyou,” he pointed at his father, “brought Tessa to Devram, and then handed her over toyou.” He finished, moving his finger to Blackheart. When both males remained silent, he said, “We all came here because of her?”
“Let me guess,” Razik cut in, his words dripping with disdain. “You weren’t abandoned in another realm because you wereneeded.”
“Needed for what?” Luka asked, turning to his brother to find him smirking in derision.
“The same thing I was abandoned for. A direct descendant of Sargon? The son of Temural’s Guardian? Nothing is more important to him than fulfilling ourduty,” Razik said, glowing eyes holding Luka’s.
“I was always supposed to be hers,” Luka muttered, repeating words she’d whispered to him more than once. She’d known, her soul had known, but he’d always thought it meant…
He turned back to their father. “Is that true? Is that the reason I was brought here?”
Xan sighed, his arms dropping to his sides. He winced a little when the collar at his throat jostled. The collar they’d tried countless times to remove without success.
“It’s not just about a Guardian bond. Yes, your Wards are safer with you, butyouare also safer when bonded to another. Bonds are more complex than simple words and magic tricks. Surely you all realize that by now,” Xan said.
Luka glanced at Razik, his brother’s features back to stoic, but Luka saw the slight head tilt that told him Eliza was speaking down their bond. And while he suddenly found himself with even more questions, the one that came from his mouth was, “Does Tessa know?”
“Know what?” Xan asked.
“That you brought her here. That you handed her over to Blackheart. That I was…” He trailed off, not sure how to phrase everything he was trying to wrap his mind around.
