Page 37 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

“How is it not?”

I shook my head. It was not. It wasn’t. Nia was just a child. A suffering child. A sweet girl who became my sister. I still hated myself for distancing away from her when I learned who she was. Back then the wound had been fresh, still oozing blood, and I’d reacted the best way I knew how to react at something that had wounded me once. But it was not the same.

“How is it any different?” he demanded, shoving me across the court. “You care about that bastard.”

I shook my head. No. I didn’t.

“Is that why you keep drowning yourself with blood and screams down there?”

“No.” And they did more than bleed and scream. He was on a roll with his offences against me today.

“Yes.” He hooked a leg under mine, and I collapsed to the hard floor of the court.

“He killed my mother.”

“And if he hadn’t?”

“But he has.”

He breathed realisation, chest expanding. “You don’t hate him.”

Not nearly enough. Not nearly as much as I should. “I…I think I’m losing it, Cai.”

“Is it like before?”

“No. Worse.” I swallowed. “I’m going insane.”

“You’re allowed to, Snow. What he did to you was beyond messed up. You can feel insane. Just come back. As long as you come back.” He reached a hand to help me stand and the sleeve of his shirt pulled up a little to reveal a massive violet bruise on his arm.

“Cai?” I asked, taking his hand and pushing the sleeve back to reveal a massive bruise stretching from his elbow to the wrist. “What happened?”

“Some Verglaser almost tore his arm off,” Lazarus said, coming to lean against the court fence.

“Not how I remember it, Lazarus,” he said, pulling the sleeve back down. “If I remember correctly, I saved your feathers from becoming some type of ice sculpture.”

“You think so highly of yourself,” he grumbled with disdain.

Cai threw him an amused look. “Shouldn't you be kissing my arse like you used to do when you wanted her attention? Or are you trying some type of new trick now to get on her bed for the entirety of two minutes?”

The winged male snarled, his stance changing to stand taller, his feathers ruffling all threat and too much male energy.

“Go on,” I said, leaning back on my elbows on the ground. “This is very entertaining.”

My friend looked irked. “I don’t entertain zoo animals.”

Lazarus ignored Cai and turned to me. “Might I have a word.”

“Have your word.”

Cai sat on the ground beside me, leaning as I did. “Should have grabbed a snack for this.”

“Privately,” Lazarus growled.

“This will be as private as it will get,” I said. “I have an audience with someone in the dungeons later. Would you wish for that to be our private moment? I’ve always wanted to paint those feathers red.”

I could have sworn the Volantian man flinched a little. Lazarus had a special creep when it came to my dungeons. He’d never even stepped foot down there after I’d defeathered and skinned a Volantian after the man had a hard time accepting the word no from a woman and took what was not given to him willingly. Oh, and then I had him boiled in a cauldron in the middle of Taren. But I still think it was the defeathering part that bothered Lazarus—the man had such a complicated relationship with his wings.

He glanced at Cai shortly before clearing his throat. “Meet with me before nightfall.”