I was wrapped in something far stronger than protection—love and support.A whole blanket of it. The twist I never saw coming.
“I can’t wait to hear all the stories about young, wild Wyatt.” I chuckled, clearing away the remnants of my tears with a palm. “Thank you. Both of you.”
David rolled his eyes, but a reluctant, admiring smile was painted on his lips. He exhaled, as if expelling the stress of the night.
“Anything else we should know about tonight?” he asked in a more open than accusing way.
Hoping to stall my answer, I darted my eyes to the counter where Honey was sprawled out, fast asleep. One tiny leg dangled off the edge. A glistening thread of syrup drooled from the corner of his gaping mouth. He hadn’t even bothered toswallowbefore conking out.
“Uh . . .” I wrinkled my nose, looking up thoughtfully.
Oh god.A flush immediately crept into my cheeks.
Yeah. I was definitely not about to bring up the Liplock fiasco, or Finley’s spell-breakingtheory.
I began to shake my head, ready to dodge the question entirely, but the voices from the bar floated back to me, a heavy cold creeping into my heart.
His people were brutally killed in the collapse—while the other half now live in struggle . . .
My back straightened. I bit my lip, hesitating. “I need to ask you something.”
David lifted an eyebrow, posture alert.
“Okay,” he said, patiently.
A rough snore echoed through the room as Honey’s head lulled backward, his whole body now limp in Wyatt’s arms. The Cherub could’ve easily passed for dead. Arms flopped uselessly with every step he took. Wyatt muttered something under his breath as he carried him off, presumably to find a bed. Or maybe just a closet to toss him in.
“I overheard something at the club.” My fingers thoughtlessly drifted across the cool surface, scratching at an invisible spot. “Talk about you. About Loveland.”
David’s face shifted, only slightly, but enough that shadows crept under his eyes.
“They said that after the collapse, you ditched Loveland, leaving your people behind. Ran off to raise me instead.” Thewords tasted bitter. Not because of blame—but from the shame I felt for even wondering.
Wyatt returned. He leaned over the counter, elbows planted and head bowed. A long, steady breath blew past his mouth.
David’s lips pressed into a thin line.
There was a sad darkness growing within him. Was it guilt? Regret? Both?
“Is—is it true?” I asked, abashed. “Did you leave them?”
The air thickened between us.
His eyes fixed out the kitchen window, studying the purple hyacinths in the window box, softly blanketed in moonlight.
“No,” David said, the words expelled as if they’d been caged for too long. “But it’s better they believe I did.”
I had no doubt my face betrayed me, showing every ounce of my confusion.
Turning, I looked at Wyatt, but his gaze was glued to the floor with a heartbreaking expression.
“The collapse . . .” David’s voice dropped, growing icy and sharp. “There’s more to it than I’ve told you.” He looked at me with guilt buried beneath his brows.
“They called it a natural disaster. But there was nothingnaturalabout it.” He paused. “Mount Lovelorn was extinct—it wouldn’t have erupted on its own. I saw our Candela flicker that day. Just once. It hadneverfaltered before. That’s how I knew. I justknewthe Skell King was behind it. The weapons your mother warned us about . . .” His eyes narrowed, not in anger, but certainty. “Some way, somehow—he did it. Your mother, then Loveland—that was no coincidence.”
A breath was stolen from my lungs. He should have told me sooner.
“Why would he—?” I stopped mid-sentence, shock absorbing my core.
