15
The hours pass as I wait beside Rook. Someone arrives with a tray of food, and I pick at it in silence as a prisoner in this strange place.
Eventually, Rook groans, and the medics enter, checking on him as his eyes flutter open. I stand in the corner with my hands clasped, trying not to get in the way.
His gaze finds me, and he smiles—it’s soft at the edges, a little woozy from the painkillers, but it’s his. I’m starting to wonder how I ever doubted him at all, but then I worry I’m just trying to convince myself of something I want to see.
When the medics are finished, they leave us again. No one offers an update on what’s happening beyond these walls, and part of me prefers to live with the bliss of ignorance a little longer.
“Hi,” I say to Rook, once again taking the seat I’ve been occupying for a while.
“You sat with me,” he says.
“Well, I didn’t really have a choice. We’re under guard.” I pause. “But I also wanted to make sure you’re okay.” I don’t add that I would have stayed with him anyway, but I think he senses what I can’t put into words.
“General Sol,” he says. “Why is she here? Do you know what’s happening?”
“Your parents are talking to her, I think. But I don’t know what’s taking so long. No one is telling us anything.”
Rook huffs and winces before he touches his forehead, where the medics have applied a square of gauze and some surgical tape. “Well, I’m glad you could witness my humiliation at least,” he says. “I knew my punishment would be bad.”
“Rook, your dad . . . The way he hit you . . .”
He snorts a laugh. “If you’re thinking he took it easy on me, don’t. There’s no preferential treatment because I’m his son.”
He must catch the look on my face because he hurries to continue.
“Poet, it’s not like . . . Fuck, I’m so sorry.
I should have told you what to expect. But it’s not like your dad, okay?
I promise. I love my father. He’s the best man I know, but we grew up in a brutal world with hard rules, and he’s done everything he can to give us the tools to protect ourselves. ”
“I was just worried about you,” I say, my voice smaller than I’d like.
“I know. I’m touched that you care, but I swear to you this is fine. This is normal in our world. I am a soldier first. His son second.”
“Okay,” I whisper. “It was just hard watching you bleed out like that.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, reaching for me with another pained wince. “Fuck.”
I slip my hand into his and stare at our entwined fingers.
“Since we have time, we need to talk,” I say, my left knee bouncing. I can’t hold this question in any longer.
Rook offers me a quizzical look.
“About what Edward found in the Citadel.”
He blinks and then says, “This is about your brother. I was there that night.”
“Yes.”
I swallow thickly as he blinks a few more times.
“When did you realize it?” I ask carefully.
I need to know that he didn’t intentionally deceive me.
At least not about this.
He shakes his head. “I never did for sure. When you told me, I wondered if it could have happened on a night I joined a raid.”
“Okay,” I say, equal parts relief and grief twisting in my chest.
He didn’t know.
“I should have said something,” he says. “But I thought that might just hurt more than anything, and I didn’t see what the point was.” He swallows and inhales a shuddering breath, clearly bracing himself. “Was it me? Did I do it? I’ve been too scared to ask.”
“No,” I say immediately, and he exhales in a woosh. “You weren’t nearby when he went down. He was fighting someone, but it wasn’t you.”
Rook presses a hand to his chest. “I know it isn’t fair, because you still lost him, but I’m relieved it wasn’t me.
” He peers up. “We didn’t take his body, though.
I promise you that. I wanted to defend my people from that accusation, but it didn’t feel appropriate. We wouldn’t ever do that to someone.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Something else happened in the video.” It’s burning me up, and I need to tell someone about this.
“What?”
“General Sol was there,” I say, lowering my voice, conscious of the Guards close by. “She took his body.”
His forehead creases. “What happened?”
I describe what I saw when General Sol killed one of her own Storm Guards and then took Raine away still alive.
“Do you know why she would do that?” I ask, and Rook runs a hand through his hair.
“I don’t know for sure.”
“But you have a hunch?”
“Maybe. We believe General Sol is working on a cure for Whispers, too . . . and that The Shield uses the bodies of Keepers to further their understanding of how the disease functions.”
“In what way?”
“Performing tests on them,” he says, and my stomach clenches. I try not to imagine Raine strapped to a metal table while a bunch of scientists callously poke at his body for their research.
“That’s what you were looking for the night we broke in, wasn’t it? This was always about more than learning about Storm Callers.”
He nods. “Yes. I should have told you about that, too.”
I use the heel of my hand to wipe away a tear.
“It was so painful, watching you dismiss my message when I saw you on that screen. I jumped to a lot of conclusions, realizing you had another agenda you never told me about.” My shoulders drop.
“And maybe it hurt thinking you were choosing that over me.”
“Poet,” he whispers, squeezing my hand. “That was never what I was doing.”
“I know,” I say. “I understand now that your purpose was so much bigger than that.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice burning with sincerity. “I’m so fucking sorry that I ever made you feel like you were anything but one of the most important people in my life.”
I swallow thickly, lacing my fingers together.
“If Raine wasn’t dead, maybe the general wanted to help him?” Rook adds gently, though I can tell from his tone that he doesn’t really believe that’s what happened.
We both fall silent for a few moments before he says, “I’m also sorry you lost him in a fight he never started.”
“I just wish I could find some answers. I wish I understood what really happened that night.”
“Maybe with Sol here, we can find out.”
“Maybe.” I pick at a loose thread on the blanket.
“What do you think of my brother and sister?” Rook asks.
I smile. “They’re nice. Navy is very chatty. She reminds me of Journey a bit.”
“I thought so, too. I was sure Navy would love you.”
“She’s very sweet.”
“My family means everything to me, Poet. I want them to get to know you better.”
“Your father hates me. He doesn’t want me here.”
“He doesn’t. He hates where you came from. He hates your father.”
I snort at that. “So did you know who I was when you arrived?”
“I didn’t. Not really. I knew of the scions and assumed they might have children at Amery, but then I met you, and you were . . . nothing like I expected.”
“I’m exactly what you expected,” I say. “You told me that yourself.”
He smiles. “Maybe at first, but that changed very quickly.”
His tone is full of honesty, his words raw.
We watch each other in silence, and it feels like he wants to say more.
“Your sister thinks you’re in love with me,” I say, then blink, surprised to hear the words come out of my mouth. But this is what Rook has always done to me. Made me open up. Be vulnerable and honest.
A slow smile spreads across his face. “Does she?”
“She said she can tell.”
He shrugs and then lays his head back down. He definitely isn’t denying it.
“My sister has always been able to read me very well,” he says.
“Oh,” I say, glancing out the window into the hallway. Someone passes by, carrying a tablet with a stylus tucked behind their ear.
“Is she . . . right?” I ask before he peers over at me.
“I promised to earn your trust back. Then I’ll tell you how I feel. Otherwise it’s like . . . eating the cone before licking the ice cream.”
He winks, and his smile turns goofy, making me wonder how strong those painkillers are. I laugh as the tightness in my chest eases.
I thought I loved him. A few weeks ago, I was falling in love with him, but then everything changed, and now I don’t know what to think. It would be foolish to give him my heart until I’m absolutely certain I understand who he is.
“Remember that I told you I’d protect you no matter what,” he says more seriously now, his voice rough. “Just remember that. No matter what happens next, remember those words. And if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, then . . .” He trails off and shrugs.
“Okay,” I answer, just as a yawn cracks out of my mouth.
“How long have you been sitting here?” he asks.
“Hours?” I say. “I wonder when they’ll come for us.”
“If I know my dad, they’ll probably be talking all night.”
“Is it a problem that she’s here? You said this place was a secret.”
“I honestly don’t know,” he says.
“Your dad didn’t seem that surprised to see her,” I say. “Or that worried about it.”
At that, Rook’s eyebrows draw together, several thoughts passing over his expression. “And she didn’t say what she wanted?”
“She came for us, but your dad shut it down quickly.”
“People must be losing their minds,” Rooks says. “The Shield isn’t supposed to know about Cloudspire. This is supposed to be a safe place.”
“Your dad also seemed to know the general. I got the sense they’d met before.”
Rook shakes his head as though he doesn’t understand, and something about that sets off alarm bells in my head. High Commander Athira probably harbors many secrets, even from those closest to him.
Rook lies back, opening his arms. “You look exhausted. Will you lie with me?”
I hesitate for only a second before I kick off my boots and crawl in beside him with my back to his chest. He wraps his arms around me, and I breathe in his clean scent. Despite the fight with his dad, he still smells just like Rook.
“You belong with me, Poet. I know you aren’t sure of that yet, but I am,” he mumbles. Then he buries his nose into my hair, and I listen as he falls asleep, his breathing turning soft and even. I lie awake, blinking in the dark, wondering if I’ll ever really belong anywhere again.