"How?"
"You'd never believe me if I told you."
"Try me."
She looks tempted, but just sighs again, her dark hair falling in front of her freckled face. "My father hit me."
"That's not the full truth."
"It's part of it."
"When did they adopt Onyx?"
"A few years before they died. I was young at the time."
"And who raised you?"
"Onyx stole and begged and worked where he could. He put food on the table for us both. But I'm not sure I was ever 'raised'...it's why I am why I am. But I'm working on it. I can't keep disappointing Onyx. I have to change."
I am silent for a beat, stunned by her candid honesty. "And you killed the Shadow Commander?"
"I didn't want to, but I found out he was planning on killing Onyx. I killed him and inherited the title of Commander. I know I'm immature and I know I’ve been exceptionally stupid, but I'm good at my job. It's why I'm here. I'm just not built for this." She waves a small hand around us. "For indoor spaces and doors and meetings. It's new to me."
"What is your relationship with King Espan?" I ask, sitting opposite her in the cell. Why, I'm not sure, but I cannot remember the last time I felt actual emotion towards anything or anyone. I am enjoying this conversation, for the first time in years.
"He's almost been like family to me, or a close friend, perhaps. He is so patient with me, so understanding. He met me first when I was a child." She grins, her eyes lighting up. She’s so transparent, every emotion she feels is visible on her face. "He said I was the terribly behaved sister he never had. He provided me with food and shelter for a few weeks while Onyx and I got back on our feet."
"And the other one? Stellan?"
"He's my hunting partner and deputy. He's our best warrior."
"Anything more?" I ask, and her eyes widen at me in a delighted expression before she lets out a loud laugh, her head tipped back in sheer joy as her shoulders shake with laughter. "Oh my word! You're jealous!"
"I'm not.”
She raises an eyebrow like she thinks I’m spewing bullshit at her.Maybe I am.
“I'm advising you that relations between mortal and immortal are a bad idea."
"I don't need you to parent me."
"Clearly you do," I snap, regretting the words as soon as they leave my mouth. The regret intensifies when her shoulders slump instead of fighting back.
"This is why I don't open up to people," she mumbles, staring at her small feet.
Fuck, do I know how that feels, and I hate that I’m the one responsible for giving her the feeling that I loathe so much. In a hundred years, I don't think I’ve properly talked to anyone about anything remotely personal.
"I'm sorry, Renna. I didn't mean that."
"You did."
"I didn't. But there's a reason mortals and immortals don't mix. What if you had a child and the child was immortal? You'd die of old age while it was still a toddler."
She shrugs, saying nothing. She’s shut off, and I don’t like it.
"Renna," I say, tenderly tipping her chin up. "I'll free your brother."
She nods, intense relief crossing her expression, but she has gone quiet. I gently untie her hands, rubbing the deep welts where the rope had bitten her skin. "Please behave while you're in here, Renna."
