Ocean shrugs, no answer to solve the confusion twisting my insides.
“That doesn’t make sense,” I mumble, and she huffs.
“Neither does anything else around here,” she grumbles, reiterating her thoughts from earlier as my gaze snags across the field to the last shadow fae. The moment my eyes latch onto him, I’m instantly reminded of the memorabilia he has in his room, each item representing his family, and my gut clenches.
“What did they do to his sister?” I breathe, andOcean shakes her head. As her lips part, waiting for her tongue to find the right words to say, I yelp, stumbling forward as someone collides with my side.
Thankfully, with Ocean’s quick instincts as she reaches out to grab me, I manage to remain on my feet. Snapping my head up, I’m not entirely surprised to find Tiran stalking ahead of us, glancing back over his shoulder with a snarl on his lips.
“Asshole,” I bite, straightening myself as I stand tall and run my hands over my vest.
“Are you okay?” Ocean asks, and I nod, squeezing her arm in appreciation.
“I’m fine. It’s just a little man with pencil dick syndrome,” I grumble, shaking my head as I try to remain alert.
Refocusing my attention on exploring the supernatural world, my gaze latches onto my palms, directing my curiosity inward. “What am I?”
Ocean takes a moment to respond, doubling down on glaring at the back of Tiran’s head for a few extra moments before she turns to glance at me.
“Honestly, you’re a legend more than anything,” she states, and a burst of laughter parts my lips as I flutter my eyelashes, giving her my most angelic look.
“Thanks, I try,” I joke, and she rolls her eyes, wagging her finger at me.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Well, that's disappointing,” I grumble, and she grins.
“Seriously, I've never met a scythe in person. Most people don't believe they exist because they don't live long enough to be seen,” she admits.
“Which begs the question of why I'm still alive.” Goosebumps prick the back of my neck as the familiar sense of loss drenches me.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” she muses, and I sigh, my gut heavy with disappointment.
“With the way they treated me the other day, my only guess is that someone wants me to be their weapon,” I confess, a shudder running through my body as I recall the pain I suffered in their presence.
“Their weapon?” Ocean repeats, and I nod. “Are they aware you’re a whole-ass person?” she blurts, and I shrug.
“Not to them.”
Her lips pinch with distaste. “That's unethical and totally disgusting.”
I hum in agreement. “Do you think I could find anything more out about myself?” Hope blossoms in my chest, faltering slightly when she winces with uncertainty.
“Maybe in the library,” she offers, and my eyes widen.
“I didn't even know there was one,” I state, and she gives me a knowing look.
“That's because you haven’t really toured much of The Vale, to be fair,” she points out, and I make a mental note to add it to my to-do list. “I can help make it happen,” she offers, and I smile, a rare, genuine spread of my lips.
“You're too kind,” I muse, and she brings a finger to my mouth, hushing me.
“No, I'm psychotic, remember? Don't say nice things about me in public.” She's dead serious, and I have to hide my grin as I mutter my apology.
“So really, that just leaves The Sanctum,” I state, gulping at the mention of them.
“Yeah,” she breathes, the air suddenly feeling thicker.
“I can’t trust them, no matter what. The only alternative means I’m going to be their weapon, and I'll never let that happen.”
