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He shook his head again.
“You would be a prisoner your whole life?” Saying the words lodged against my heart and I winced. He didn’t agree yes or no, he just dropped his head, his focus on our intertwined hands as he rubbed his leather shrouded thumbs over my skin.
Finally, he shook his head, the motion slow.
“Then what would you do?” The words choked their way out. I couldn’t leave him, I wouldn’t leave him. But if I stayed, we would both be prisoners until we took our last breath. If I stepped out of line, if either of us stepped out of line… then I really would be alone, locked away.
Killed.
The thought was a boulder against my chest, my breaths coming short and quick. I couldn’t leave without him, but I didn’t know what other option I had.
He pulled me toward him, his shroud pressing against my cheek as he pressed his to mine, and three whispered words passed between us with a strong finality that sent the heat of the stars over my skin.
“I would fight.”
Chapter 35
Caspyn
Ididn’t sleep well that night, possibly because there was still a healing hole in my abdomen that was throbbing incessantly. Every turn sent waves of pain and nausea through me, leaving me staring at the roof of the canvas tent as Ryndle’s story played on repeat.
Two sisters and a Goddess, who, the more I thought about the story, didn't seem as much like the savior that they were playing her out to be.
I shouldn’t care.
I shouldn’t care who The Goddess was. I shouldn’t care about that. I had one goal in my life: to end the queen.
To make her pay for all the lives that she would end, for every single Catalyst that she would end.
But wasn’t that the same as those sisters, that vendetta, that need for revenge that somehow ended in a war and the elimination of Fae? No, it had to be different, it was different, because while I would take revenge for what was done to my sister, I would also save them all.
Every last Catalyst.
The queen would be dead before she had a chance to enact whatever plan she was concocting.
Who cared if what I knew of Princess Elara was taken from some dying religion. Even if it was all a story, even if she could do nothing and was as magical as everyone claimed I would still see the queen dead. I would do it on my own.
Ryndle and his Goddess forsaken stories were muddying the waters. I needed to keep my focus.
I grunted as I rolled over, pain splitting up my side again.
“If you keep moving like that you will tear yourself open again.”
I growled at the intruder, which should have been enough warning for her to stay away. Instead, Lyani rushed in, the chill of morning following her before the tent flap settled behind her.
“What do you want, Lyani?” I didn’t even try to mask the snarl.
“I don’t want anything, especially not from you. I’m here to clean your bandages, same as I do every morning.”
“You come in here every morning and clean my bandages?” I sat up so quickly that pain flowered from knee to navel and I winced, Lyani rolled her eyes and shoved me back down, her frail body once again delivering surprising force.
“Don’t act so surprised. Or did you really not figure out where your new bandages were coming from every day?” She lifted a brow as she held me down. I had meant to sit, still irate at the knowledge that she was barging in there every morning, but the feeling was quickly staunched by the fact that no, I had not realized that someone had changed my bandages every morning.
“Really?” She laughed, clearly having read my expression. “How have you survived so long hunting Fae if you are that oblivious?”
“I’m not oblivious,” I was still snarling, the sound turning to something feral as she lifted my shirt, batting away my attempts to push her back as she went to work.
“If you have not noticed fresh bandages every day, then you are.” She gave me another disparaging look before she unwound the bandage which wasn’t as dirty as I expected, but still dirty enough that I felt a fool for not noticing.
