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“I do not exactly have a lot of pressing commitments at the moment,” he replied with a half smile and raise of his brow.
“Then come with me.” She turned and headed for the main door, snatching up a dagger and buckling it to her waist as she went. Everyone was staring at her as she pulled the door open and turned to him. He stole a quick glance at Sorin, who was watching her closely, as if trying to read her.
Callan went to her side, and she gestured with a hand. “After you.”
“We will need an escort,” Callan said tentatively.
“Iam your escort,” she replied coolly, and her tone dared anyone to say otherwise. As she made to follow him out, he heard Sorin call after her, and Callan stopped, turning to watch.
Scarlett paused in the doorway, her back still to the Fire Prince. She closed her eyes and seemed to be breathing deep. She opened her eyes again and slowly turned to face him. Sorin took a few steps towards her, pausing as her shadows thickened.
The two stared at each other, and Callan could swear no one was daring to breathe as they observed them. She tilted her head to the side as if she heard something. Honestly, sometimes he thought they could read each other’s thoughts, but then she said, “You shall get no treats from me, Prince. Not for a long while. So speak if you have something to say.”
“Tonight. You will speak with me?” he asked tentatively. “We need to finish a conversation we were having.”
“That sounds like it would be a necessity,” she said slowly. Deliberately.
A flash of relief passed over Sorin’s features. He swallowed and only nodded mutely, understanding whatever meaning those words held.
Without another word to any of them, Scarlett turned and shut the door behind her. She grabbed Callan’s hand and began pulling him down the hall. When they had gone down a set of stairs, she let out a sigh. “There was a book,” she said.
Callan nearly stumbled a step. “A book?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied, pulling her hand from his and pushing back her hair from her face. He could still see the hollowness in her eyes.
He grabbed her wrist, bringing her to a stop in the stairwell. “What is wrong, Scarlett?”
She only shook her head. “It has been a long couple of days, Callan. I do not wish to speak about it right now.”
“You do not wish to but maybe you need to,” he pushed gently.
She shook her head again. “No, Callan. I— Mikale found us there, and he said some things…”
Callan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Are you all right?” he asked, looking her over again. He didn’t know why. Any injuries Mikale would impose would not be external. They would be internal…causing those haunted eyes that looked at him now. Without letting himself consider it, he pulled her to him. She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed against his chest. Her arms came up around his neck. Her head rested on his shoulder. He said nothing as the Wraith let him hold her for the first time in months.
Chapter 30
Scarlett
Scarlett knew it was late. Callan had gone back to his rooms hours ago when she caught him sleeping on the books. He had tried to convince Scarlett she needed to go back to her own quarters and eat something. She had waved him off, saying she would head back shortly. That was at least two hours ago.
He had held her in that stairwell. He had let her soak up his strength. Had given her a tether to hold herself together. She had needed it. She had needed a friend, and he had been there. It had been unexpected and welcomed.
She sat in a secluded alcove on the first level of the library, nestled in an oversized chair. It had taken Callan a little while to track down the book she had wanted to see,The Heart of Beginning.While he had searched for it, she had asked him questions of his own family, and how long they had been the ruling family of Windonelle. He had told her they could trace their ancestry back to the beginning. That the Solgards were the only family to have ruled the western human kingdom since Deimas and Esmeray had sacrificed themselves to keep out the magic wielders.
To see my king’s throne restored.
It was a night that sometimes visited her dreams, but one sherarely thought of otherwise. Not until Mikale had uttered those words.
The shadows always return to the Darkness.
They had crashed into her like a cresting wave. She had thought it impossible that he could know of that night in that deserted alley. No one had ever come looking for the man they had killed that night. There had never been a whisper of him again. So she had tested him. She had asked who his king was, and he had replied exactly as that man had.
Who is yours?
She was learning there was no such thing as coincidences. Not in the utter mess of horse shit her life had become.
He knew. Mikale knew they had killed that man. That man had said he was there to visit kin that resided on this continent. Mikale had said Juliette’s death had served more than one purpose.
