Saint shrugs.
“Bullshit,” I protest. “There’s no way you were able to make me believe something was my own idea.”
He chuckles. “So you usually calmly walk away from fights?”
“What are—”
I stop. Godfucker! The night of the bonfire when I “decided” to walk away from Neema and Evlynne while every cell in my body was telling me to hit them. That was Saint planting an idea?
Fucking prick.
Yet this prick is about to save my ass, so I suppose I’ll forgive the transgression.
“Can we handle our business now?” he asks politely.
As a wave of gratitude washes over me, I step forward and wrap my arms around him in a quick, panicky hug. “Thank you.”
Nodding, Saint steps out of the embrace and nudges me forward. “I’ve got this. Just go back to your quarters. Act like nothing happened.”
I take one last look at Hawkins’s body, then twist on my heel and hurry away.
The Dagger is in chaos. Or at least I imagine it is. Me, I’m holed up in my quarters like Saint ordered, praying he was able to follow through on everything he said he’d do. Wipe the cameras. Persuade the guards. I can’t be linked to what happened to Mako and Hawkins. Not until I figure out how I’m going to handle this Kallister situation.
News of the attack has already spread, because my comm has goneoff several times. Two messages from Tana, telling me what happened. And one from Gray, which surprises me. I assumed he’d never speak to me again.
Tana called it an animal attack.Likely a wolf,she’d reported.
I sit on the edge of my bed, my eyes burning with unshed tears, my mind replaying everything that happened tonight. I should’ve tried harder to save Mako. Why didn’t I save him? Who cares if Hawkins would’ve shot me?
I should’ve taken that bullet.
Mako might still be alive if I had.
Finally, despite Saint’s orders, I can’t sit in this room one second longer. I stumble out of my quarters and into the nearest common room. I need a drink.
Turns out I’m not the only one.
The room is packed with people, gathering at the tables, huddled together on the sofas and chairs. The mood is somber. Subdued.
“I can’t believe Mako is dead,” someone mumbles, and it takes a moment for me to realize it’s Henley. I’ve never heard his voice sound so ravaged. Gone is the teasing drawl, the dancing eyes.
I walk over and snatch the bottle of glenshade from his hand, because the drink locker is too far away. He doesn’t object, looking distraught as he watches me take a long swig.
“You heard?”
I nod.
“This is so fucked,” he mutters. “Wolves never come this close to the Dagger. What the fuck was a wolf doing out there?”
A sharp sob breaks through the din, and we turn to see Raven Persimmons being comforted by two of her friends. Tears streak her cheeks as she cries in their arms.
When she notices us, she staggers to her feet, pushing toward our table.
“Henley,” she says between choked sobs. “It was me.”
I stiffen for a second, thinking she’s for some reason taking responsibility for what happened tonight.
“I stole his cake,” she confesses, her eyes awash with tears. “I lied about it. And then I kept lying about it because it was funny to watchhim run around questioning everyone and freaking out about it. I feel like such a terrible person—”
