I furrow my brow and jerk my head back at the news. I didn’t think the king was serious, or that he’d follow through on it. Because who would want a rogue, an outsider, to have access to their least-trained and therefore, the most vulnerable?
“They hate me. Why would they listen to me?”
“Because the king, and I say so.”
I raise an eyebrow and cross my arms, unconvinced.
“I know. It’s a terrible idea, but what can I say? Dax is the king. What he says goes,” Caleb says.
“Actually,” I pause, “it’s kind of genius.”
He scoffs. “Yeah, you would think that. I’m sure you’d love access to the least-trained pack members with special permission to fight them.”
“Or...” I ignore what he’s implying and shuffle closer to the desk. “The king recognizes he has access to the very enemy they’d be up against—one who could teach them a thing or two.”
Caleb bites the inside of his cheek, thinking it over. While he’s deep in thought, I have an urge to fill the awkward silence. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Hm?” He’s pulled from his thoughts with my question. “What’re you talking about?”
“Earlier, when you saw me. I was breaking your rule so why didn’t you say anything?”
“Oh. I had other things on my mind,” he sighs heavier than usual.
I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. Then I cross and uncross my arms, trying to find a comfortable position. “Are you okay?”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t,” I respond, finally settling on crossing my arms.
My body language speaks for itself. Closed off. Detached.
I hold my stare even as he narrows his eyes at me.
He breaks first. “I’ve just... got a lot on my mind, is all.”
His eyes drift to the bow, rubbing it. Staring off into space again.
“What’s that?”
“What? Oh, this? This is—uh...” He sighs and with that sigh, a wall comes down through the tough façade he was carefully keeping. “It was the last birthday present from my parents. My dad used to take me to go hunting with him all the time and...” He scans it, admiring it. “It’s stupid.”
“It... doesn’t seem stupid.” I walk closer to him.
He peers up at me, and his eyes flash gold. When they return to their normal blue, they’ve softened, and I don’t hate the way he’s looking at me. In fact, if he weren’t my warden, I might actually get lost in his eyes.
I wish I could know what he’s thinking.
Caleb shakes his head, clearing his mind.
I clear my throat. “So... uh—” I look around the room. “Was this your dad’s office?”
“You mean the man you killed? Yep.”
There it is—the reminder I needed as to why I will never have him. I’m thankful my back is facing him when he stabs me with his words, so I can wince in private.
I walk slowly toward the books and run my fingertips along the vintage texts. I hum appreciatively. “He had a beautiful collection.”
“They weren’t his. They’re mine. It drove me crazy to always see his shelves so bare so I put mine up.”
