Why, indeed?
“I’m not sure.” I answer the twin’s question, but I hold Wren’s gaze. “But I don’t want you to get caught.”
I don’t want her to die.
For some reason, I feel a sense of responsibility towards her, and I cannot fathom letting her go. Wren doesn’t rebuke me, andthat’s confirmation enough for now that she feels whatever this is, too.
I add, “I can’t let you go. Not again.”
A sound comes from above us, and fear slides down my spine. We can’t stick around and wait for the king to find us.
“You will never get out of Rosebridge without me,” I say. The king’s soldiers will be crawling all over the capital, searching for them. “Your glowing Mark is a fucking liability, and there are Wanted posters of you plastered all over the kingdom.” I step towards her. “You need my assistance.”
“You’ll just... help us,” she clarifies. “You don’t want anything in return?”
I want you.
The thought rises so fast, I have no idea where it comes from. It takes me by surprise, and I barely manage to shove it down.
“The king will be coming for me, too. This is as much for me as it is for you.”
She nibbles on her bottom lip. “I . . .”
“Go ahead, talk among yourselves. Decide if you’ll join me.”
What I don’t say is that it doesn’t matter whether she agrees or not. I’ve already made up my mind—Wren Nightingalewillbe coming with me. I will throw her over my shoulder and carry her if I must, but I will not leave her here.
Not with the king coming, not until we can figure out what the fuck is happening to us.
But a willing companion is much better than one who has been forced, so I give her a chance to reach the right decision on her own. I step away from the trio, giving the sisters a moment of privacy.
They huddle together.
“What do you girls think?” the gods-blessed whispers.
“I don’t know...” one of the twins replies. She continues, her voice too low for me to hear.
There’s a strumming in my chest, a too-tight string being plucked. Mist’s anxiety is rising, and she’s urging me to hurry.
I’ll be there soon.I rub my fist over my sternum, sending her easing, calming thoughts.
Her worries aren’t misplaced, though. Until I see Mist with my own eyes and assure myself that the king hasn’t touched our bond, I won’t be able to breathe easily.
The back of my neck burns, and I feel eyes on me. I look over my shoulder, finding one of the girls studying me intently. Her gaze is knowing, and she stares at me for a long moment before she looks away. She surveys the death all around us, a shudder running through her, before she turns to her sisters.
“I think we should go with him,” she announces, her voice loud enough for me to hear clearly.
All three of them turn and look at me.
“Really, Marie?” the other twin asks skeptically.
Marie nods, giving me another once-over. “I think we can trust him.”
“Trust?” Wren scoffs, and sparks flit off her fingers. “No. We cannot fucking trust him. You don’t know who he is, Marie”—her Mark flares, and her voice hardens—“or what he’s done.”
The way her eyes drill into mine tells me she’s replaying each interaction we’ve ever had.
My name’s Gabriel.
