Starlight crept through the leaves, spotting the platform in glaring light. Our fellowship stared, puzzled by this outburst.
Poet’s cunning features darkened. Briar’s astute eyes studied me and Aire.
As for Avalea, Eliot, and the ladies, their expressions ranged from baffled to expectant.
I lasted another ten seconds. “We should wait for Nicu.”
Jeryn’s face sharpened like a saber. “Why?”
Anyone else on the receiving end of that severe gaze would lose their liver. Additionally, the man’s systematic mind challenged every living, breathing entity on this continent to question their own logic. Speak up to Winter, dare to rationalize in his presence, and you had better make sense.
Everyone’s reactions made it plain: If it was acceptable to plot our next move against Rhys while Nicu slept in his cabin, why wouldn’t it be fine to entertain the logistics of Lyrik’s future?
My worried gaze veered to Aire. Other than a close friendship, Poet and Briar had no idea about the connection Lyrik and Nicu had formed. If they knew, both figures would agree to involve their son.
Yet what could we say? Jeryn and Flare’s offer was a solid one, the likes of which no commoner with Lyrik’s skills would take for granted, and his advancements in Winter would further our crusade against Rhys. At this point, Lyrik would be a fool and a deserter not to accept.
Spewing an objection would require clarification. But to explain a goddamn thing would also betray Nicu’s privacy, as well as Lyrik’s. Whatever ambiguous attachment they’d formed, if the rogue refused to open his mouth about it, we couldn’t either.
Lyrik glanced toward the lanterns, which glowed with the colorful flames he invented during our stay. Absently, his jaw clenched. “Count me in.”
58
Aspen
Lyrik got one free pass for saving Nicu’s life. I’d be forever thankful for that. But if it weren’t for his injury, I would have knocked this rogue upside the fucking head.
Not because this decision wasn’t the right one for our impending war. No, it was because he made this choice behind Nicu’s back.
They weren’t lovers. Lyrik wasn’t bonded to my friend.
But Nicu had gotten attached. And yes, he should have been here to get an explanation up front instead of later.
Lyrik’s wound acted up, his pained hiss cutting short the discussion. The bloke’s complexion paled, and a sweat broke out across his forehead.
Half of the clan disbanded to their cabins, while Avalea, Poet, and Briar requested that Aire stay behind for a private conference. I peeked at the knight, his pupils brimming with heat, setting fire to my skin.
By the time Lyrik and I left, the rest of our fellowship had disbanded through the enclave. The stubborn rogue grunted in protest when I offered my arm. He strode forward, about to dodge my impending cross-examination when a lithe figure sprinted from a winding stairway.
“Lyrik!” Nicu exclaimed. “Aspen!”
The squatter faltered as Nicu bounded toward us. Regardless of his ashen pallor, those mercurial eyes kindled,his gaze magnetizing to my friend like the only source of light on this continent. And while Lyrik concealed that reaction fast, a terse frown pulling over his features like a mask, I’d seen enough.
The squatter didn’t move. To cover up his indecision, I rushed ahead and snared Nicu into the biggest, tightest, longest hug. Notes of cedarwood wafted from his hair as he squeezed me back.
Despite his injuries, only a strip of cloth dressed his cheek. Relieved, I inched away to check him further. “Doing okay?”
“I’m always okay. Everybody else is foolish,” he quipped.
“You are the truest person I know,” I choked out. “Thank you for your friendship.”
“Aspen, it’s not a present to be thankful for. It’s a ribbon.”
A ribbon. An unconditional bond.
Nicu’s eyes strayed over my shoulder. His irises sparkled like jade, and his voice tenderized, softening like gossamer. “Lyrik.”
“Songbird,” the rogue greeted, slouching against the nearest railing to compensate for his wound.
