Page 93 of Skyla

The way he cut himself off, this was something I didn’t know.

“What?”

“Maybe I should wait until we’re all together.”

“Or you could tell me now.” I took a big bite of pasta and stared him down.

He sighed, chuckling under his breath. “We’re in so much trouble.”

“Are you in trouble because of the Legion or because you can’t say no to me?”

“Both. And to be clear, I can and will say no to you. All of us will.”

I grinned. “Sure.”

A smirk that had chills running over my skin. “Try that with Silver and see how it goes. But not until I can watch. That’s a show I want to see.”

He laughed when I looked away. I’d already learned my lesson with that, and though I understood and welcomed the discipline they offered, I wasn’t going to make a habit of asking for it.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I did some recon at the Legion clubhouse today. They’re preparing it with all kinds of spells that will harm and kill fae. Directly written on the ground. So taking the fight to them isn’t an option. We need to draw them out or wait until they make their move to take care of it.”

“Oh.”

Guilt welled up in my chest, and Grave’s face hardened. “Stop it.”

“I know.” I sipped my wine, forcing my feelings back. They weren’t real, and they weren’t helpful. “You never kept your promise,” I told him.

“Which promise?”

“You said you would tell me the truth about your road name after I chose. And your voice. I think it’s pretty clear who I’ve chosen now.”

He inclined his head. “That’s true.”

“So, did you get buried alive and scream your head off? I need to know.”

Taking a slow sip of his drink, he locked eyes with me. “Are you going to be disappointed if the answer is no?”

I shook my head.

“I was buried alive as part of being patched in, but no, I didn’t scream my head off. That’s where I got my name, but that’s not why my voice sounds like this.”

“Then why?”

Grave reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small glass bottle. Filled with some kind of pearly liquid, it was silvery and mesmerizing like Silver’s eyes. “Have you noticed I don’t carry a gun?”

I thought about it. “I guess so. Not consciouslynoticingit, but yeah. You’re not the only one who doesn’t.” Wraith and Delta didn’t carry guns either. They carried knives, and Wraith always had his knuckles.

“I don’t carry any weapons.”

“Not like you need to,” I muttered.

He tried to cover his amusement. “It’s because my weapon of choice is different. And we don’t talk about it. Because we don’t want anyone to know.”

I leaned forward onto the table, now dying of curiosity.

“Did you ever wonder why I like what I do? The idea of someone sleeping?”

---