“You’re not going. Forget that.”
“But it’s fine for you to go alone. That’s bullshit. Like it or not, we’re tied together, Grim. If you go down, then so do I. Or we can work together and find a way through this as a team. I’mnotstaying home. You can get that right out of your head.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“Well, stop.”
My dragon listens to Wren. If we were in the shit…and I’m talking life or death, I could shift and get us out of it. But only if Wren was there.
Only, I don’t want to mind-bond with her or anyone else.
She fetches two mugs from the cupboard and puts some cookies on a plate.
“I don’t like it,” I tell her, scrubbing a hand over my face.
“I don’t like it either, but here we are. You need me, and I need you. We’re stronger as a team, and you know it.”
She’s right.
Fuck!
“Okay, but if the shit hits the fan and you have a chance to save yourself, you need to take it.”
“Right back at you,” she says, switching the burner off and then turning, her eyes locking with mine.
I nod. “Okay.”
“Good. I’m glad we cleared that up.”
She pours warm honeyed milk into both mugs, then she sits at the table across from me, sliding a mug my way.
“Thanks.”
“Any time.” She blows gently on her milk.
She’s so fucking pretty.
We sit in silence for a while. Both of us take a sip of our milk.
“This is good,” I tell her, holding up the mug.
She gives me a half-smile. I can see that she is thinking something over.
“I’ve been thinking,” she says, wrapping her hands around her mug. “I should make a video telling everyone what really happened. That you’re innocent. We could get Drake to send it to all the news stations.” She looks up at me, hope shining in her eyes. “I asked Falkor, and he has an old cellphone. He doesn’t have a SIM card, but we could charge it and—”
I shake my head before she even finishes. “I thought of that too, but it won’t work.”
“Why not?”
“They’ll dig up dirt on you,” I tell her. “Those bastards would twist everything to suit their narrative. They’ll make you an accomplice, somehow. Say that you’re in on it.”
“They won’t find any dirt,” she insists. “I don’t have any.”
“They’ll lie, Wren.” I meet her eyes. “They’ll fabricate evidence if they have to. You’ll end up going down, too. I won’t have that! The only way out of this is to get that cellphone and to expose them.”
Her face falls. She stares down at her mug, her shoulders slumping. “I just feel so helpless. Like there’s nothing we can do.”
“I know.” I take another sip. It’s sweet and warm and comforting. “I’m hoping Drake has some good news for us.”
