“I can’t…” A strangled whisper.You’re in love with someone else.“I can’t do this anymore.”
She leaned back, surprised to see silver lining his own eyes.
“I’ll always be grateful for our time in Meridon, but it wasn’t real, Tristan. And the more we play, the less it feels pretend. I… it’s starting to hurt.”
“Cassandra, I wouldnever—” Tristan sucked in his bottom lip, looked towards the sky before returning a pained gaze. “The last thing I wouldeverwant to do is hurt you. Your friendship means too much to me.”
And there it was.
The final blow against her bruised and battered heart.
Friend.
She’d never hated that word more.
But it was the very thing she needed to hear to strengthen her resolve.
“It’s probably best if we give each other some space.” She steeled her shoulders as she pulled out of his grip, his fingers lingering on her arms. Like he didn’t want to let go. “I’ll ask Mother Superior if I can come back to the Temple.”
“No,” he blurted. “No, you stay here. You’ll be more comfortable. I’ll return to the barracks and ask Hella to come stay with you.”
“Tristan, I don’t need—”
“A babysitter, yes, yes, I know. It’s not for you, Daredevil, it’s for me. After what happened on the ship, I won’t be able to concentrate if I’m constantly worrying about your safety.”
Cassandra nodded, scanning his honey-brown eyes. “You’re a good person, Tristan. You don’t deserve to shoulder the burden of your family’s evils.”
Tristan’s brows furrowed and he turned towards the house. He looked back over his shoulder, his expression unreadable as he opened the double doors. “Goodnight, Cassandra.”
“Night, Birdman,” she replied with a small smile before he disappeared into the darkness.
By the time she awoke the next morning, he was already gone.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Cael wiggled his fingers, sending focused currents of wind that stirred the torches outside his cell.
Not strong enough to snuff them out, just enough to make them dance. Practicing his finesse for what he had planned as soon as Alexei arrived this morning to escort Xenia to the Temple in Primarvia.
With each sleepless minute last night, his growing power pressed its intentions against his skin. Begging to be unleashed. Stroking down his back and exploring the wound where his wing should’ve been.
He swore it wailed and raged at the absence.
Xenia’s gentle, measured breathing floated over from the next cell. A comfort, since he wanted her well-rested for the trek ahead.
She’d woken in the middle of the night, screaming for her parents and terrified that she was alone in her cell again. He’d talked her down as best as he could from his side of the wall, but it had taken her hours to fall back asleep.
The dungeon door slammed open, whipping the torches into a frenzy, and Alexei’s rushed footsteps echoed down the stone walls.
Cael stood, wing poised and hands raised, ready to suck the air from the fucker’s lungs as soon as he stopped outside Xenia’s cell.
But Alexei bypassed Xenia and came to a halt in front of Cael instead. His serpentine eyes glittered with amusement and a disdainful smirk twisted his scarred lips.
Cael curled his fingers, about to unleash his power, but was halted by the document clutched in Alexei’s pale hands.
The sigil stamped onto the thick paper—two membranous wings bracketing a mountain peak on a field of verdant green—collapsed Cael’s arms to his sides.
The sigil of Brachos.
