Page 84 of The Missing Sentinel
“Yes,” Drexley replied as he clung to Ducarius. “My memories were bled. Like at the compound. But it was not as strong. You knew.”
“I felt the tug the second I arrived and recognized it.”
“You did not tell me.”
“Would you have believed me if I had?” Ducarius asked. His voice was calm, and there was no irritation in his heart.
Unable to lie, Drexley shook his head.
“Do not feel guilty, love. It is not your fault.”
Drexley did not fight his tears as they fell. His mind was a mixture of the past and the present. It was a collision of two versions of a story. Only one of them was true. And it would forever alter how he thought of Adney and his realm.
“I want to talk about it. Tell you everything.”
“You can do that when you are ready to go downstairs,” Ducarius replied, rubbing Drexley’s back as they huddled together in their bed. “Otherwise, you will have to repeat your entire tale.”
“I feel a need for them to know too,” Drexley confided as he pulled marginally away from Ducarius. His mate offered him a smile and moved to gently brush away the moisture from his cheeks. Drexley leaned forward, and Ducarius met him halfway for probably the tenderest kiss they had ever shared. It was a beautiful reminder that although the past was a façade, the present and their future was undeniably real. And their love gained strength every day.
Drexley’s spirits buoyed a little at the thought. No matter what he was enduring, Ducarius was there for him. A ready shoulder for him to lean on. In fact, their entire condo was filled with family. Men who cared for Drexley and supported him. Without demands or manipulation.
“Let’s go downstairs,” Drexley told Ducarius, who nodded and sprang into motion. The Skeleton Lord climbed off the bed, and Drexley scrambled after him. They locked hands, shared a grin as their love flowed freely between them, and left their bedroom.
They walked into a noisy hallway. The second floor was open to the large living area beneath, and Drexley had an expansive view of Larissa’s handiwork thanks to the Darays chatting in or around the kitchen. Cookies and treats werealready on plates, and the fresh aroma of coffee tickled Drexley’s senses.
A quick glance at the clock told him it was two in the morning, but the Darays were prepared to stay awake no matter how long it took to ensure he was fine. Drexley was incredibly touched and grateful to have them in his life.
Arvandus caught his eye and grimaced. “Memories came back?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“The screaming was a reminder of a night many years ago when my own memories caught up with me,” Albrecht said. For the first time, he was uncloaked. His eyes were green, but what surprised Drexley was that his reddish-blond hair was short. Every other sentinel wore it long.
“You did not mention that Albrecht kept his hair cut similarly to mine,” Drexley said to Ducarius.
Ducarius’s brows drew together in confusion. “You did not ask about Albrecht’s hair.”
“I assumed it was long. Every other sentinel wears it the same way.”
Albrecht shrugged. “I do not know how they do it. Nothing annoys me more than having my hair hanging in my eyes.”
“Which is saying a lot considering he is mated to a fallen knight,” Alaric drawled.
Chander elbowed his mate in the stomach. “Don’t start. Drexley, how are you feeling?”
Shoving Cassius out of the way, Ducarius urged Drexley to sit at one of the barstools. Brynnius set a cupcake in front of him. Next to it, Samson placed a cup of coffee.
“Overwhelmed,” Drexley said after thanking Samson and Brynnius. He took a sip of his coffee to brace himself. “My life was not what I believed it to be.”
“How far back do you remember?” Alaric asked.
Drexley gave his leader a sheepish glance. “I do not recall meeting Adney or the day I was resurrected, but I have memories of the compound. Of talking to you. You listened to me confess that I believed myself to be a failure and assured me I brought my people honor.”
“You still bring your people honor,” Alaric replied. “Nothing you have done or will ever do can change that. We are incorruptible.”
“We are now,” Drexley corrected. “But there was a way to force us to comply with whatever a necromancer wanted. It was how I was led to believe that I disliked training. That weapons were a bad thing. And that Alaric was not our actual leader.”
“The question all these sentinels are going to ask next is how that worked,” Teverild said, leaning against Cassius as the Skeleton Lord helped himself to cookies.
