Page 21 of Reign of Light
I don’t take my eyes off the approaching paths and keep scanning for any sign of movement.
“I do, but I’m not listening this time.”
“Lennox…” He shoots me a look, his voice a warning, and I break my focus to look over at him.
If something goes wrong, he wants me to get myself out, to keep myself safe and let him handle the threat, even though he has assured me repeatedly that he knows I can handle myself. But it isn’t the same this time. There’s no returning to Blackwood, no future queen to protect. I’d be saving myself for nothing, and I refuse to abandon people I care about for a kingdom that no longer matters. What’s here is what matters.
“This is my family too,” I say, keeping my voice low but loud enough that he can hear my determination. “And I’m not just going to leave any of them behind. It doesn’t matter what I was, because I’m not a princess anymore. I have no kingdom, only everyone here, and I’m not leaving them. Or you. So you can stop with the grumbling and watch for Mara.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks, but I see something else in his eyes.
Pride? Love?
Desire?
Not letting his eyes break away from mine, I reach up and pull my bow off my chest, nocking an arrow so I’m ready for whatever is coming our way. He turns back toward the overlook, but I notice the subtle shift in his body as he inches closer to me, and sets his hand on the hilt of his sword.
Despite Weston’s overprotectiveness, I can still see enough to scan the area and search for movement of approaching Voyagers. But the island is still. Not even a breeze rustles the leaves, and the crash of the sea on the beaches seems farther away than normal.
“I don’t like this, Cap,” Sig mutters as she shifts nervously on her feet.
“It’ll be fine, babe,” Jorn says and wraps an arm around her shoulder. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Someone dies,” she says flatly, and Jorn tilts his head back and forth to the side.
“Alright, true, but besides that, it can’t really get any worse than it already is.”
I huff a laugh, and from the corner of my eye see Weston shaking his head quietly as Sig nudges Jorn with her shoulder until his arm falls back to his side.
A quick glance at the sky tells me it’s almost time, and no one speaks as we watch the island before us. Weston lifts his hand to his brow, shading his eyes before he breaks the silence.
“They’re coming. There’s only two of them.”
A pit forms in my stomach, and I peer in the direction Weston is looking, spotting the two figures walking toward us, moving as if they aren’t in a hurry to get to this meeting at all.
This is it then. It’s real. The dust is actually gone.
After all the talk amongst us that this meeting might be a trap, and the worry that Dane leaving with the dust a hoax, somewhere deep inside I considered that a possibility. I didn’t realize how strongly I was holding onto that one last thread of hope, that we weren’t truly trapped here, until it snapped.
The way Mara spoke of Dane’s abandonment and betrayal felt so final, but after mentally and physically preparing all day for the possibility it was all a ruse, I’m now realizing I believed it. I convinced myself, even just a little, that this was all to give Dane what he wanted; to capture me, and force me to tell him the location of the waters.
I held on to the hope that this was all a sick and twisted plot, and that the dust wasn’t gone. Dane wasn’t gone. That we all still had a chance.
But we don’t, and I have to force down the feeling—the same one I had in the tunnels last night as I cried in Weston’s arms—that the world is crumbling again.
Because now, what deserves my focus is making sure all of us will be safe on this island again.
I keep my arrow nocked, pointed at the ground but ready to raise and shoot in the event of an attack. We watch as they get closer, only the two of them, just as Mara promised, until they come around the bend and through the jungle of trees, stopping at the base of the plateau and leaving a good distance between us.
Mara stands with her hand on the pommel of her sword, with Gauge beside her. His eyes widen as he takes in the four of us, one at a time, his gaze lingering on Weston and his towering and commanding form for a moment longer before moving on.
“You listened,” Weston says, and Mara crosses her arms over her chest.
“You didn’t really give me a choice,” she snaps. The empty pouch hangs from the pocket of her pants, and my eyes drift away from it and lock back on her face.
“You were telling the truth,” I say. “They’re really gone.”
She rolls her eyes and huffs. “Why the fuck would I lie about it, Lennox?”
