Page 201 of Fallacies

All eyes fall on the former Captain, who seems a bit defeated despite his newfound freedom. His shoulders are low as he pulls in a deep breath, confessing on his exhale, “It’s true.”

I resume my stare-off with Callan.

There’s less denial in his expression, but there’s a whole lot of worry and a suffocating amount of anger already taking its place.

“Lucina.” My name has never sounded worse on his lips. Concerned, grieved, and disappointed. He glances at the Hound as he steps in closer to me, his voice coming out so quiet—so afraid—that a crack splinters through my adamant exterior, “What did you give him?”

The breath I had inhaled gets trapped in my throat, stuck behind the lump that forms.

Somehow, in the midst of all I had to prepare for, I didn’t prepare for this. Because as badly as I want to…

I won’t be going home with Callan. I won’t be leaving with him today.

Salem clears his throat, and it might as well be a bomb dropping with how silent it has fallen. “Lucina agreed to help me break the curse on your people.” He says it so simply, so matter-of-fact, that it makes me feel stupid for being unable to voice the words on my own.

But a part of me is grateful because I truly don’t think I could have. Not when Callan is coiled up so tight I’m afraid he might burst.

Someone had to rip off the bandage, and I know it makes me a coward for not being the one to do it, but it was going to hurt either way.

Callan shifts his attention fast, glaring at Salem with every ounce of wrath trapped in the silver of his eyes. “Under what conditions!?” he snaps.

“What?” I gape at him.

“Conditions?” Salem asks.

Callan is fuming now, his tone menacing, his words absolute. He raises a pointed finger at Salem, and I can feel the energy crackling off of it. “You forced her into this,” he accuses.

“Callan. No.” I shake my head, wedging myself further between them. “I wouldn’t have been able to do this on my own.”

He isn’t looking at me as he pushes against the hand I have pressed into his chest.

“I did it for the Sol. If we cure the Disciples, we can take back Streatham. Is that not part of being in this coven? Being an Ajax? Putting our people before ourselves?”

That captures his attention. Barely.

I take a deep breath, forcing some calm into my voice and hoping it will rub off on him. “Callan,” I say softly, hardly more than a whisper, “your father wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t made this deal.”

He looks at me then, really looks at me, but it isn’t like he usually does. It isn’t with relief, or amusement, or love—it’s heartache. A brokenness that I can’t understand.

I knew he’d be upset, shocked perhaps, but Callan has always put the Sol first. A big part of why I made this decision was based on what I had learned from him—my duty to my people. He’s done it so well. He continues to do it so well, and I knew a part of him would struggle to understand, but I guess I thought a bigger part of him would be…proud.

I wanted him to be proud.

“Callan,” I urge when nearly a minute has passed, and he hasn’t even blinked. “Say something.”

His throat works as he swallows, broken gaze flicking to the Hound, and then back to me. Callan shrugs, his arms falling heavy to his side. “I don’t know what to say, Lucina. What is there to say?”

In my peripheral, Pax shifts on his feet, and Grey averts his eyes.

The sudden tension is palpable, enough to make me nauseous, and I’m trying to understand where he’s coming from, but why should I try any harder when he doesn’t appear to be putting in even half the effort?

I can’t meet him in the middle if he won’t move, and I refuse to be handled like a child. I refuse to second-guess a decision that I felt so right in making when Callan’s the one who told me to follow my gut. To never hesitate. That’s exactly what this is.

I grit my teeth, trying to handle this civilly. “You’re upset.”

“Upset?” Frustration contorts his face. “Lucina, you…you made this decision without consulting us.” I flinch at the accusation in his tone. “You’re in a coven now. You have other people to consider!”

“And how exactly was I supposed to consult you, Callan?” Anger slips out before I can stop it. “With the fucking stars?”