I deserve so much more.
Looking again at the wound on my neck, his jaw hardens. He reaches beneath his cloak and rips a strip of material off the hem of his shirt, brow pinched with concentration as he gently binds me. “I’m certain the feeling’s going to be mutual once we have a moment to clear the air, but we’ll work through it,” he says, tying off the wrap. He licks his thumb and uses it to rub off some of the paint on my shoulder. “That’s what family does, Laith. We untangle our shit, no matter how messy the knot is.”
Family.
I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that word until now. I tuck it deep inside, like he just gifted me a root-bound tree and told me to plant it somewhere that brings me joy.
“We don’t fucking run from each other. Wefightfor each other. Period. And if you ever leave me stranded on a beach like that again, I’ll kick your ass from here to the fucking stars and back. Do you understand?”
Another tear tracks down my cheek, a smile almost slipping free as I nod, running my hand up over his bare head.
Family.
I have something to fight for after all.
“Hate to interrupt,” Kolden grinds out, “but we’re tight on time.”
My eyes widen as twin canines push so far down from Baze’s upper jaw they’re dimpling his bottom lip. He whips around in a blur of motion, charging forward until he and Kolden are chest to chest. “Who’s this dickhead?”
Kolden’s expression doesn’t waver as he looks up at the menacing tower of muscle and fierce, primal fortitude poured over him.
“My guard. He, ahh—” I stumble over to them, sniffing, trying to push between them but failing to find the strength. “He saved my life.”
“Not from where I was standing,” Baze bites out, like he just slaughtered the words, then spat them in Kolden’s face. “He wasn’t the one being used aslive bait.”
Gods.
“My idea. And not now, earlier in the night. When I almost choked to death on liquid bane.”
Baze goes eerily still, dissecting me with a split-second sweep of his eyes. “Well, good for him. So did I. More than once if you count that time you fell down a sinkhole in the garden when you were six.”
I’d forgotten about that.
“Very impressive,” I say, successfully wedging myself between them. I place a hand on both their chests and give them a firm shove that’s probably not as firm as I think because my body is still a bit floppy feeling. They both take a step back anyway, which I appreciate. “But we really do have to go. The others will be halfway down the tunnel by now.”
Baze’s eyes cut to me, then to the Aeshlian tucked against the wall beside the exit, watching through the gaps in his bunched limbs. Looking at Kolden again, Baze sucks air through his teeth, pulls his ring from his pocket, and stuffs it on his finger, tinting his skin and brows and smoothing the sharp edges of his ears—holding Kolden’s eye contact the entire time.
“Tell anyone and you’re dead.” He turns in a churn of black fabric, ripping the talon from Calah’s back with a wetcrunchthat makes me flinch.
Kolden clears his throat.
“I’ll do a sweep of the place,” Baze mutters, storming toward the hall of cells with a sword strapped to his back. “You go ahead.”
He moves out of sight, and I breathe a sigh of relief, letting my hand drop from Kolden’s chest. He clears his throat and takes off down the tunnel.
I look at Calah. At his swelling pool of blood and big, bright-blue eyes that stare blankly ahead.
I think about that haunting smile. About the way he looked at me when he smelled my blood, like he could see beneath my many layers to the darkness tucked beneath my skin.
Like he could see my ability to end him andwantedit.
It’s a slow, tedious trip through the tunnel with only a few torches to light our way, Baze and I offering support to those in need of someone to lean on. A blow of wind whistles around the corners and lifts the hairs on the back of my neck, making the dark feel so dominating I’m certain it could crush us in a blink.
I steal a glance over my shoulder, into the prowling gloom that creeps after us, always remaining three steps behind.
I’m not sure how much time has passed since the ceremony, but it feels like too much. It feels liketimeis what’s whistling around the corners, urging me on like some whispered warning.
Murmurs come to me down the line, and I look ahead, seeing the crowd drift to one side like tipping water. My breath catches as Old Hattie hobbles into view, dressed in the same haggard clothes I saw her wearing last, her bandage still stained with blood and the filth it collected while she was hacking at the wall with a kitchen knife.
