Page 75 of You Only Love Twice
"What happened?" Ava whispered.
Gemma had explained the past she and Obsidian shared, but she'd glossed over the recent events.
"The usual." The hollow burn of resentment ached within her. She lifted the bottle of blud-wein directly to her lips. "I failed Malloryn."
She sensed Ingrid and Ava exchanging a look as she swallowed
"I fail to see how any of what happened was a failure," Ingrid growled. "You did your best to survive a dangerous situation. And to be honest, when we broke in, I didn't gain the impression your feelings were one-sided. Obsidian's first instinct was to protect you."
A gentle hand rested on her knee as Gemma lowered the bottle.
"Malloryn's had his britches in a knot all week," Ava said firmly. "Don't take his words personally. He's barely slept since you went missing. And then there's the queen. Someone tried to break into the Ivory Tower two nights ago, as if to test its resources, and they couldn't catch him—"
"And of course, let us not forget Malloryn's forthcoming wedding, though I daresay he's trying to."
Gemma's grip tightened around the neck of the bottle. Oh, heck. The wedding. Her mind raced, counting days. When was— "Tomorrow," she whispered.
Ingrid rolled her eyes. "Byrnes can hardly wait. Wants to see Malloryn get his comeuppance."
"Half the Echelon wants to see Malloryn get his comeuppance," Ava added.
Gemma tried to find a smile, but couldn't.
"You couldn't have timed your escape better if you'd tried." Ava accepted the glass Ingrid gave her. "Malloryn's been in such a lather we weren't certain if he was going to call off the wedding to find you, and Byrnes has been beside himself that it would skew the results of the betting pool."
"Byrnes doesn't deal with stress well," Ingrid added, as if realizing how that sounded. "He focuses outwardly on other things in order to hide his true feelings. He was genuinely worried, Gemma. He could barely sleep."
"I know." Her voice roughened as she stared down into her own glass. These people were becoming more like her family than the unknown woman who'd birthed her and then sold her to Balfour's Falcons. "Thank you."
No tears warmed her eyes—as a blue blood she was physically incapable of crying—but she was fairly certain she was going to lose her composure.
Ava gave her a gentle hug, and Ingrid chinked her glass against Gemma's.
"To getting you back."
They all threw their glasses back, and the blud-wein burned down Gemma's raw throat.
Ingrid topped up all three glasses. "To Malloryn's wedding."
Again.
A warm, fuzzy sensation began to burn through her veins as the blud-wein splashed into their glasses again. Ingrid poured like a woman hell-bent on getting top-hammered.
"And to the Company of Rogues, who are my newfound family," Ingrid said in a softer voice, and Gemma realized she wasn't the only one who'd known little to no familial love.
Ava had been raised by a banker who didn't know what to do with her once she'd been kidnapped and turned into a blue blood; Ingrid had been captured by English raiders from somewhere in Scandinavia as a child and forced into a cage for the amusement of blue blood lords....
And Gemma?
She'd had friends once, in the training camps of the Falcons, before she realized they'd be pitted against each other during their final years and forced to do anything to survive. She'd never dared let anyone get close to her after that horrifying revelation, using her armor of flirtation and charm to prevent anyone from slipping under her skin.
But these people had hunted for her when she'd been taken. They were here now because they knew she was sick at heart.
No matter what sort of twisted mess she felt for Dmitri, she needed this too.
"To the pair of you. You are my family," she whispered, her fingers shaking around the glass. "And I will do my very best to keep you all safe, no matter what comes. I love you both."
The blud-wein burned.
