How he’d scared her, how he’d given her a gentle shove towards their dual destiny.
Should he let her out?
He should let her out.
No.
Hecouldn’tlet her out.
It had to happen before it was too late, for the clock was still ticking, the illness was still eating away at his bones, and...
He had to sit so he didn’t fall.
Arawn glared at him for what felt like hours, while she stood inside that cell. While she herself sat...and still, the raphon did not make a move to harm her. It shifted its body, stretched its wings or scratched at its head with its enormous black paws.
At some point, Arawn left. He returned with food for her, and Kinlear’s heart sank, becausedamn him,why hadn’t he thought to at leastcarefor her?
He wasn’t good at these things. At feelings and understanding, because for so much of his life...he’d simply been numb.
He glared at his brother.
Arawn glared back.
After a while, they muttered short, awkward phrases to one another, as if they all couldn’t stand the slow passing of time.
“How is Father doing?”Kinlear asked.
“Fine,”Arawn said. “How is Mother doing?”
Kinlear huffed angrily. As if his bitch of a mother had tried to speak awordto him, since he’d left Touvre behind. No ravens came. Once a year, she’d visited, but only to show her face to the people of the Citadel or vote on matters for the war. Last time she’d arrived, she hadn’t even muttered so much as ahelloto Kinlear.
“Hell if I know,” Kinlear grumbled. “You’re the one she fawns over like a newborn babe.”
He smiled when he thought he saw a hint of a snarl on Arawn’s lips.
He loved to make his hackles raise.
And then it was silent again. So awkwardly silent, but time passed without incident...andstill,the raphon did not harm Ezer.
It’s fated,Kinlear thought, as he sat on his stool, his leg throbbing.She belongs with the beast.
At some point, Ezer began to pace. And then, blessedly, by her own choice...she turned her attention tohim.
Gods, he loved the feel of her eyes on his face. He loved the darkness in her gaze, the insults she most certainly wanted to throw at him. She was a challenge, the greatest one he’d ever met, and he’d be damned if he didn’t win.
“Does she have a name?” Ezer asked.
He chuckled at that. “Call her Six.”
“A number is not a name,” Ezer said.
He shrugged, his heart soaring as those eyes remained on him and him alone. “And a raphon is not a pet.”
“It is, if you’re to make me tame her,” Ezer said. She sighed and took another bite of the meat Arawn brought her. She leaned her head against the bars.
And for a moment she looked so sad, so...resigned? That Kinlear hated himself all over again for this.
She needed hope.
