Meant to Be Mine #3
That’s not unsurprising, but it’s still disappointing. Two sets of eyes look down at me. An older man with tawny skin and short, grassy green hair is standing next to a woman—the female guard from earlier who warned me to drink slowly.
Her hair is still braided, and this close, I can see that three gold hoops rest in both of her ears. The guards are dressed similarly in dark brown pants and black tunics, and they’re both armed with a dagger and a short sword. Clearly, they’re here for more than a social visit.
They look at me expectantly, and it’s only then that I realize I’ve been staring.
“Hi.” My fingers find Amelia’s bracelet, and I spin it around my wrist. The movement is awkward with the heavy cuffs, but it soothes something deep inside me.
The man’s brows rise as if he can’t believe I’m speaking to them, but the woman smiles softly.
“Hello,” she says, a trace of kindness in her voice.
And then . . . silence swells as they stare at me expectantly.
I barely tamp down a groan. Gods help me, this is awkward. I probably should’ve thought about what I’d say before I opened the door, but the time for that has passed.
“How can we help you?” the female guard asks, saving me from myself.
“I was hoping to find some food.” As if on cue, my stomach grumbles. I flush, squeezing the sun between my thumb and index finger.
“Food?” the man repeats as if he’s never heard of the concept.
“Yes. There’s some water in the room, but there isn’t anything to eat.” It feels like ages have passed since I had the crackers, and I don’t know when Gabriel last ate.
“I see,” the man says, his voice making it clear he thinks the request is ludicrous.
Evidently, I won’t get anywhere with him. I turn to the woman, widening my eyes. “Please, my . . . friend needs to eat. He’s been hurt, and he requires sustenance to heal.”
Calling Gabe my friend doesn’t really feel right. After all, friends don’t kiss their friends the way he kissed me, and I’m pretty sure most of them don’t have fated bonds, but that’s a problem for a later time.
“I don’t know . . .” The woman gnaws on her lip and looks down the hall before glancing back at her companion. “Maybe we should—”
“No, Skyler,” he growls. “It’s not a good idea.”
The guard scowls at me, grabbing the doorhandle and yanking it shut. I stumble out of the way to avoid being squished, but the moment it’s closed, I press my ear to the door.
Gabe must be in the bathing room because I don’t see him.
“We received our orders.” The guard’s voice is hushed, but fuck him if he thinks I won’t eavesdrop. I hold my breath to hear better. “Despite what they said, they could be spies. They need to remain under guard at all times.”
“I heard our orders, Farris,” Skyler replies, a hard edge to her tone.
“Then why are we having this discussion?” he grumbles.
“Because she’s still a person! And my heart isn’t made of stone. Besides, it’s not like she’s asking us for the moons. She just wants some food.”
A pause, then a low rumble. “This is a bad idea.”
“Yes, you’ve made your position clear. Honestly, Farris, take the damned stick out of your ass. There isn’t anything the Blessed can do. She’s wearing shadestone, and besides, you heard the seer. She’s not going to harm us.”
Farris huffs. “Just because Evelyn said it was so doesn’t necessarily mean—”
“Don’t,” Skyler snaps, her voice rising. “You know how much Evelyn sacrificed for this community. Don’t finish that sentence. I trust her judgment.”
Farris mumbles something too quiet for me to hear, and my chest tightens. It’s now or never. I slide the door open, peering through the crack at Skyler.
“Please,” I murmur, aware that she’s my last chance. “I promise I won’t try anything. All I want to do is stretch my legs and get some food.”
And if I happen to put space between me and the Hunter and explore our current lodgings at the same time, well that’s a bonus.
Skyler studies me for a long moment before looking to Farris. “I’ll take full responsibility for her,” she tells him. To me, she adds, “I’ll bring you to get some food, but we’re coming right back.”
Farris grumbles under his breath, but I ignore him as I step out of the room and thank the kind soldier.
“You’re welcome.” Skyler slides her hands into her pockets. She turns left, heading down the hall. “This way, Blessed.”
I hurry after her, my footsteps echoing through the corridor. “My name is Wren.”
Not Blessed or Given or Marked One. I’m tired of being labeled by my Mark. I am more than a gods-blessed, more than someone destined to be killed for something out of their control.
“Just Wren,” I add.
The guard glances at me over her shoulder, understanding flitting through her eyes.
“All right, then.” She slows down, giving me time to catch up. “I’m Skyler, but you can call me Sky. It’s nice to meet you.”
And as Sky leads me to a small pantry filled with loaves of fresh bread, jars of pickles and preserves, and several wheels of cheese, I smile.
Even though there is still much in the air between Gabriel and me, and even though we are prisoners in the rebels’ home, I can’t help but feel as though I’ve reclaimed a part of myself.
And it feels good.