Jack snorts out a laugh. “Plus there’s the whole thing of the rift having changed all of our lives, and every single person deserves to know the truth,” Jack adds, deadpan.
“Semantics.” Sonny waves a hand through the air, looking entirely too pleased with himself—and, if I’m not imagining it, a little flushed at the thought of his mate getting all territorial about it.
Whatever floats his boat.
All I want is the truth.
I shift slightly where I’m perched on the edge of the table, ignoring how my ribs complain about the movement. The humour bleeds out of me faster than it does them. My focus locks in.
“Start talking,” I say.
Sonny sobers.
Not completely—I don’t think he’s built that way—but enough that the edges of the joke fall away and something more grounded eases in its place.
Jack straightens a little, too, folding his arms across his chest, his gaze flicking between us.
Sonny exhales. “All right,” he says. “You already know why Aelith went back.”
“I know the version I’ve been told—as a ‘prisoner’ exchange, which is obviously bullshit, as I know for a fact that he was here by choice,” I reply. “I want the real one.”
His mouth quirks. “Fair.”
He leans back against the wall, one foot braced behind himself, like he’s settling in for something that’s not going to be quick.
“It wasn’t just about the exchange,” he says. “That part? That was… timing. Opportunity. A way to make it happen without the Queen immediately suspecting something bigger was going on.”
I nod once. “Okay.” I suppose it could have just been perfect timing—me getting the shit kicked out of me just in time for the prince to return home.
“Aelith made the call before that,” Sonny continues. “Before you were taken. Before any of it.”
That catches me off-guard. “What?”
“He already planned to go back,” Jack adds quietly.
I look between them. “Why the hell would he do that willingly?”
Sonny’s expression shifts. “Because of what we found.”
The air feels heavier suddenly.
“In the citadel?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Sonny replies. “The fun little field trip we had.”
“You mean the one where you nearly gotyourselves killed,” Jack mutters.
“Details.”
I lean forward slightly despite the pull in my ribs. “What did you find?”
Sonny drags a hand through his hair, like he’s trying to figure out where to even begin. “All right,” he says slowly. “You remember what we were looking for.”
“Information about the rifts.”
“Yeah, as well as help for Dawson. But specifically—whether they’re natural… the rifts.”
“Or not,” I finish.
