Page 68

Neither one of us spoke. There simply were no words, no placating comments or wise phrases that would negate the raw truth of what Keir had said. Sometimes, the very worst part of life was accepting its ugly truths—absorbing them into your very marrow and allowing them space to breathe. It was easier to ignore or deny such truths, but at the end of the day, such denials didn’t negate them. It only relegated them to the shadows, to the edges of the mind, left there to whisper and fester until they poisoned one from the inside out.

The truth could be a harsh mistress but denying the truth was an infectious path of disease.

Twenty-Three

Keir

“Firework.”

Jima said he’d call or text. A call would have been better. Hearing his voice would have soothed the worry plaguing me. Jima could have been coerced into typing that singular word. I clasped Lazarus’s heart scale tightly and inhaled, forcing my mind to calm its wildly racing thoughts. If that were the case, Jima would have found a way to alert me. This wasn’t Jima’s first op. He wasn’t just a professional; Jima cared about the outcome. He may not know my sister, but Jima would fight for her, just as he would anyone in need.

Reassuring myself that this was, indeed, good news, I pocketed my phone and released all my negative thoughts in an exhale. Inhaling deeply, I expanded my lungs and squared my shoulders. Lazarus was finishing up in the bathroom. He exited in a cloud of steam, a towel wrapped around his lean, muscular waist, all his scars on display. He’d never attempted to hide them from me, a fact that fueled my pride.

“What is it?” Lazarus asked as he tossed the towel he’d been drying his hair with on the sink. His long legs ate up the space between us. I considered activating one of Warlock Holland’s silencing charms but chose to turn my phone toward Lazarus, allowing him to read that singular word.

The smile twisting his lips was positively wicked. “I see,” he answered. “Are we still having breakfast with Lulabelle this morning?”

I nodded, my own grin widening. “We’re supposed to be there in fifteen minutes.”

“I better get a move on then,” Lazarus answered before leaning in and pressing his lips to my temple. He kept his silence as he walked toward the closet, dropping his towel and exposing the firm globes of his ass. My breath caught as I stared at the powerful, self-assured picture Lazarus presented.

Mine. The word slipped through my mind unbidden. This wonderful wyvern was all mine and I was all his. Lazarus’s scars were on the outside while mine were carried within. They were a part of each of us. They were not to be overlooked, but they were also not the sum of who we were.

“Not that I mind, but are you going to stand there gawking all day?” Lazarus cheekily asked as he pulled his boxer briefs up, covering his luscious umber skin.

“Admittedly, it’s a good view,” I answered, earning me a quick inhale from Lazarus.

“Is that so?”

“It is very so.”

When Lazarus turned, his semi-hard cock was firmly outlined beneath a fragile piece of cotton. Hands on his hips, Lazarus inhaled, pulling the scent of my arousal into his body. “Hmm… Delicious.”

My breath caught, heart hammering against my chest. Cheeks on fire, I forced myself to look away and concentrate on gathering my own clothes and dressing for the day. My desire faded as I considered what I intended to wear. After breakfast, we’d start gathering everyone together to head to my old flight’s territory. To Jaakobah and whatever fate determined.

Win or lose, this whole mess would be ended come this time tomorrow. How did one dress for their greatest victory or most horrifying defeat?

“He found her?” Lulabelle eagerly asked, leaning over the table and nearly getting her hair in the maple syrup.

I nodded. I hadn’t bothered showing Lulabelle or my grandmother Jima’s text. Lazarus had activated a silencing charm as soon as we sat down at the table.

“Do we know where?” Grandmother asked.

This time, I shook my head. “Unfortunately, no.” It was an admitted flaw in our plan. “Jima has a charm that will create a barrier around him and Phina, protecting them both. We’ll need to get to them eventually.”

Lulabelle tapped her index finger against her chin while Grandmother bowed her head in thought. Finally, Grandmother gave a soft nod. “Jaakobah will give away her whereabouts,” Grandmother confidently said. Turning her attention to Lulabelle, Grandmother explained. “As leader of our flight, I will need to stay on the field as witness. It will be up to you to watch those Jaakobah surrounds himself with. As soon as he realizes what is going on, Jaakobah will reach out to one of his subordinates. Saraphina is his biggest asset. He will use all his resources to make certain he still retains control of that asset.”

Lulabelle grinned. “He’ll send reinforcements.”

Grandmother nodded. “It is what I would do.” Her twisted lips let me know how much it pained her to admit such a comparison. “Take those whose loyalty is beyond reproach. But be mindful. Do not tip your hand. They must not know you are following.”

“I understand.” All of Lulabelle’s earlier mirth died. “I do not relish leaving you alone, Grandmother.”

Grandmother waved off Lulabelle’s concern. “Saraphina is our main concern and objective.” Turning to me, Grandmother reached across the table and grasped my fingers. “We will secure your sister. You concentrate on defeating the usurper. That is all you need worry about, Keir. Leave the rest to us.”

I missed the warmth of Grandmother’s fingers when she pulled away. I also missed the confidence that touch lent me. Cutting into her French toast, Grandmother said, “Now, have we had any further news regarding our wayward wyvern?”

Lazarus momentarily stilled. “I spoke with Thalia last evening. She’s managed to find a witch capable of tracing the feathers that were found. The witch is traveling from a nearby province and should be there by early afternoon. As for where Verona or Axios currently are…no. I am afraid there has been no new news.”