I choked on his name, and his eyes darted to mine. Filled with hopelessness, weakness, and a sense of inadequacy, I realized I didn’t fit in here, nor did I belong back in my homeland. Incapable of fending off the men in the slums or Adar and Kadar, I felt lost and adrift, with only him as my anchor.
“Don’t abandon me,” I pleaded, then pinned his warm hand to the curve of my cheek, holding it in place. An overwhelming surge of pain welled within my chest, sharp and acrid. I slid closer, seeking relief from the ache inside. My thigh pressed against his.
His steady gaze searched mine. “I always come back.”
“Take me with you,” I whispered, glancing at his lips. Heat and security bloomed from his warmth. Sainte was safe.
He was my home.
I leaned close enough to feel the caress of his sweet breath tease my skin.
“I can’t.”
He launched to his feet, breaking our contact, shattering our moment. My cheek ached from the loss of his touch, and my face burned with the shame of his rejection.
“Your brother is still regent. You cannot come with me.” He cleared his throat, staring down the alley with his back to me.
“Then don’t leave.” I hated the note of desperation drenching my voice. “Don’t leave me here, Sainte. Don’t leave me alone.”
He turned to face me then, and I slid to my knees before him. I had pride, but it was long gone. All I had was anguish.
“Please don’t.” I pressed my lips tight to keep them from trembling. I would have given anything to keep him there, to stay with him.
He heaved a heavy sigh and dropped to a knee before me. He lifted my chin with one gloved hand and met my tearful gaze. I pleaded in silence, hoping against hope that I could reveal the depth of pain and loneliness that consumed my heart. If he could only see how much I hurt, he wouldn’t leave me.
His eyes snapped shut with a painful wince, and he stood in one fluid movement.
A sob tore from my throat.
Silent and resolute, he turned his back on me and strode down the alley. Abandoning me amidst the dirt and muck of the city streets, he left me to cry alone without saying a word.
He didn’t have to.
Chapter 1
Agroan rolled from my throat as the bells clanged their morning call. Beside me, a moan echoed within the brief pauses of each peal.
“I regreteverything!” Lyana moaned.
She buried her face in my back while I grimaced and grabbed a pillow, pinning it against our ears. We waited until the bells went silent, each of us tense and stiff on our mattress, heads throbbing.
“I told you,” a heaving retch from across the room interrupted my complaint, “Degor messed up his spirits!”
Lyana whimpered and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me closer. “I only wanted to have fun,” she whined.
I gagged and rolled off the mattress. When I collided with the floor, I pushed myself upright. “Your breath reeks worse than rotting fish!”
Her eyes widened with pure betrayal. “Just because you didn’t drink doesn’t mean yours smells of roses, El!”
“Bet it smells better than yours!”
I snorted, then watched Ethyan vomit off the bell tower’s edge. More often than not, he deferred to his younger sister’s lead, proving age wasn’t the sole measure of leadership. Lyana possessed a natural talent for it, while he took on the role of protector, always accompanying her.
I befriended these two street rats when I left Landing’s End five years ago. Now, a few weeks shy of my twenty-first birthday, the seasons spent with them felt more like family than Kelsie’s brood ever had.
Ethyan collapsed in a heap, then threaded his tan fingers through his sweat-streaked sandy hair, giving it a tug. “Never again, Lyana. Never.”
“You say that every time,” she sighed.
