Rhyden—she had to answer him. He couldn’t come.
She tucked her face into Lucien’s neck to keep her trembling lips concealed.
Rhyden fiddledwith the comms device. "Come in. This is Rhyden. Come in." Impatience licked at him like fire. "I said, come in. That means, if you don’t fucking answer me now, I’m going to goddamned light that place on fire to get you out. So fucking answer me!"
Nothing came through.
Fire sparked at the tips of his fingers, a testament to his fury and slowly rising trepidation. Fuck—he didn’t get scared. He wasn’t a fucking child. Not like his goddamned lying wife was, with her too-sweet voice and gentle hands. If he didn’t know any better, he’d assume this was her first life, with how carefully curious she was. But, oh, that jaded, cynical edge she had—that couldn’t be made in just the twenty-two years she’d lived. That was something forged from lifetimes.
And Rhyden’s determination? Well, that was forged from centuries of waiting to get revenge.
With the wave of his hand, the flames at his fingertips snuffed out. If they didn’t answer within five minutes, he’d do what he said—burn the whole Academy to the ground and drag his wife out by the scruff of her neck.
And he guessed the others, too.
Couldn’t very well leave them in there to burn alive. Maybe.
"Come in. Come in," Rhyden repeated, until his voice nearly went hoarse.
But then?—
The comms crackled.
Rhyden held his breath.
It happened again, a low wheeze. It was light and feminine. Vesperin.
"Wife, are you there? Come in. Are you okay?"
The wheeze turned strangled, cut off, then—ascream.
She was screaming.
Rhyden stood, not caring who might spot him below. "Vesperin, fucking answer me!"
The screaming multiplied, masculine tones cutting in.The others.
Oh fuck—oh god—oh?—
Rhyden gripped his hair. "Vesperin! Anyone? Fuck, I’m coming in."
Guess the world would know that the leader of Noctis was in Solar City.
He gripped the comms at his ear, beginning to tug it away to just make itstop. His head was going to split open from those tortured screams.
"No!" came through, clear and pained.
"Vesperin." Rhyden stilled, hand still on the comms, but no longer trying to pull it away. He held his breath.
"No," Vesperin whimpered. "Don’t come. Please?—"
Was she talking to him?
Her next words proved she was.
"Rhyden," she whispered, as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear. The word was choked and speaking of so much agony that Rhyden’s legs could no longer hold him. He sat heavily, back sliding against the concrete of the stairwell access. "Don’t come inside, please. We’ll be okay. Just stay there—they can’t know—" She gave a pathetic whimper.
"Vesperin?" Rhyden questioned. "Vesperin?"
