Page 124 of Bound
But I stay the flames.
For Amoret.
Bran gazes up at me, his smaller stature not as noticeable as his sister’s. “Do you love her, Whitehorn?”
“No.”
Again, that sidelong glance. Bran’s jaw mottles. “I see.”
“I have not known her long enough to love her,” I say into their quiet. “And I do not see myself as worthy of her love.”
Bran raises his gaze to mine. “Of that, Whitehorn, we agree.”
My hands ball into fists. “But she loves me, Branwen. I’ve felt it. Here.” I tap the side of my head. “And here.” My palm presses over my chest. “For whatever reason, she does. I won’t squander that gift. I won’t pretend it isn’t there.”
“And if she told you she never wished to see you again?”
Pain pierces my heart. “Then I would honor her wish.” I narrow my eyes. “Because it isherwish.”
He appraises me as my voice fades from the room. The cool arrogance is back, his lordly mask of indifference. “Thank you, Whitehorn, that’s all.” He motions and Cusnu moves away as the hold on my skin vanishes. Both males join Branwen across the room.
I stare. “What about Ruin’s trial? I thought you needed to speak to me about it?”
He waves that off and drops into the chair he vacated earlier. “I have already made my decision. I will speak my rule in the morning.”
Though my jaw clamps on a smart ass retort, I keep my mouth shut and walk out.
Knowing my luck, my damn affair with Amoret condemned my captain to his death.
I find Markus still in his office despite the hour. His head is bowed over a stack of papers, fountain pen in hand.
For a long time, I stand in the doorway, trying to see the warrior he was when I first made my way to Lock Lake.
“Are you going to gawk at an old man all night, Gage, or are you going to come in?”
I roll my eyes and press from the doorjamb. “You’re not an old man, Markus. Hell, you’re only a few years older than I am.”
He looks up at that, a frown staining his lips. “And yet, tonight I feel old,” he admits, setting his pen down with a hard sigh.
I know what he means. “Meeting with the locals went better than expected.”
“Any leads on Ralf?”
“Not yet, they’re still looking.”
“And the substance the team found?” he asks.
“It wasn’t Brightex,” I say. “But something stranger. The human labs are analyzing it now. Cross checking it with every known chemical across every continent.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “As long as it isn’t Brightex, we can handle it.”
I don’t disagree with that at all.
Every damn time the drug pops up, something bad happens. It’s like the drug of bad luck. And we don’t need any more of that right now.
Which reminds me …
“I just left Branwen and the rest of the arrogant pricks. He will deliver his ruling in the morning,” I say.
