Luna
Thorne’s long legs get us to the Elder’s home before anyone else. My body is slung over his shoulder while I struggle, hit, fight—with no idea who it is we’re trying to fool. Ourselves, possibly.
Sawyer is still here.
Sawyer somehow, for some unknown reason, decided not to leave.
Is he dense? Is he suicidal?
Is he…
I search for some reason that he may not be finished with me. But it can’t be me he’s after; it must be more time.
Has he still not found the money?
The thought makes me shiver, not because I know the answer but because I don’t. I don’t know anything. I can’t figure him out.
No matter what I do, no matter what I pull from him, I can’t understand his actions. I certainly can’t predict them.
Thorne sets me on my feet when we’re in the den then immediately pulls my—his—jacket closed to conceal my sheer-covered breasts. He turns his head in the sweetest, most respectful way, so far from the man I’ve spent the last three weeks with.
“I thought you said he wouldn’t be there.”
The small, grateful smile I’ve allowed my lips to lift into falls with Thorne’s accusing tone. As if I know something he doesn’t. As if I planned for Sawyer to rush back to our home instead of showing us the exit.
Standing straight, Thorne scratches his wrist where his bracelet once was.
“Is now really the time for jealousy, Thorne?”
Loud, angry feet trample into the room, and I don’t need to look his way to know they belong to Father.
“Why the hell did I send every drone after that man?” A wrinkled hand whips me around, my body jostling as if I couldn’t snap his wrist in half if I wanted. Thorne stews behind me, but he’d never interfere. “You said he would lead us to the traitor.”
Yes.
That’s exactly what should’ve happened.
“I found a way out, but it only works for me…”
He told me he was using the help of someone. I thought for certain Zephyr and he would be together, not just at the exit but at the mines.
What exactly does she think is going to happen? Does she think he’s going to steal from us then return? That he’ll take her with him?
Or was she just trying to hurt me?
I pull from Father’s arm and cup my hands in front of me, my chin high, my face a mask of calm in the storm that’s erupting in this room. My oldest sister, Raven, joins us, her expression also angry.
Funny that their anger is directed toward me as opposed to Sawyer.
“He saw the mines, Father. I believed he’d run, but obviously, he got spooked. It’s fine. We’ll put the drones on him, and he’ll show us his escape route by nightfall.”
“The traitor could be long gone by now,” Father sneers.
I don’t say anything. The bracelet around Sawyer’s wrist is firmly in my mind, a taunt she knew I’d see.
That she wanted me to see. As if daring me to prove that I’m as strong as people claim, or rather, to prove that I’m not.
That I’m too pathetic, too cowardly to expose my own sister. My own twin.
She’s right. I won’t.
Not with my voice.
“Sawyer Hansley is a manipulator. Whoever he’s using might not realize he’s going to escape for good.”
“Then they’re dense,” Raven spits. I just look at her. She may be the oldest, but she isn’t wise. She’s been around Zephyr often enough to be accountable for not seeing the signs.
“May I speak the obvious?” Thorne asks.
We all turn to him and wait. It’s rare he inserts his opinion.
“Why don’t we just extract the information from him?”
There’s a pause, though no one processes the thought. Every person in this room has considered that many times—including me. Especially me.
Yet, it’s defensiveness I feel hearing it aloud. Not alignment.
Thorne shows his huge palms and goes on, eyes on me as he speaks. “I mean, you’re finished, right? He proved we couldn’t trust him. He showed you how he does things. The act is up? We don’t need to keep feeding him three meals a day while pretending we don’t notice him sneaking around?”
Silence.
Raven shuffles. “He has a point.”
I shoot her a glare. “No.”
“It’d take me five minutes,” Thorne says. “Probably less.”
“We’re not torturing him.”
“He is not your pet,” Father jumps in. “He’s our tool. As far as I’m concerned, he’s our property. He has chosen to reject our kindness. It’s time we do things another way.”
My hands lift just to slowly curl as I let out a breath. “We need him.”
“Do we?” Thorne asks. Even when I glare, he doesn’t back down—which speaks to his hatred for Sawyer. “Now we know how he trains women. Can’t we just copy him?”
I try not to explode. This again.
The information we have is important. It was worth the effort.
But it isn’t enough.
“You can’t just copy a craftsman. If you watched Juniper’s fingers while she played the harp, could you take her place?”
“Luna,” Raven groans. “Just listen to us.”
I stomp my foot once like a small child not getting their way… I really am losing it.
I need my bed. My books. My life.
Soon. I can have it all soon.
“All of you complain about having to deal with Mr. Hansley, but I am the one who has invested the most into this project, and I will not let you all ruin the progress I’ve made. My three weeks in hell will not be for nothing because none of you are capable of patience!”
The room goes quiet. No one says anything for several seconds. They just stare, transfixed by my unraveling.
“Luna’s right,” Thorne says in his defeated puppy dog way. “She’s invested the most in this.”
“I’m sorry, are you on the council?” Father asks.
Thorne hesitates, but then shakes his head.
Father points to the door and doesn’t need to say the words for Thorne to obey. He looks at me for a moment, just barely a pause—gracing me with the opportunity to defend him. Advocate for his presence, his importance.
I don’t. There are only so many battles I can win, and Thorne’s pride isn’t my priority.
He sulks as he leaves. No one says goodbye.
“I’m tired of this conversation,” Father says, massaging his temples. He drops his hand and it dramatically slaps his side. “You have until tomorrow. If you haven’t found the traitor before then, we’re doing things my way.”
Thorne’s way, you mean.
He wanders toward the exit. “Go get some rest. And take that crap off your face… You look like a whore.”
I stare at his back as he leaves Raven and I alone.
“I’m sorry he made you…” She twirls a finger at her face, lips sunk in a frown. “Do that.”
“Yes, it was real torture.”
“It’s sexist and degrading… As if you weren’t beautiful before.”
Her pitch catches ever so slightly, and it’s paired with the gentlest cringe. The face you make when you lie to a mother about the adoring face of an ugly child.
“He was trying to help me look presentable. In his culture, this is part of that.”
“Are you really defending him?”
“No.” My eyes close as I take a deep breath. I open them on the exhale. “I’m tired. I’m going to my room… I want you to keep security on Sawyer at a distance and work on sorting out who he spoke to at the ceremony. You might start with Zephyr. I think I saw her near him.”
“Zephyr?” Raven ponders. “You think she might know something?”
“I think it’s very possible.”
Raven just stands staring at me with a clueless expression I try not to resent.
Zephyr, the sweetheart.
Zephyr, the chameleon.
“I’ll look into it,” Raven finally says.
I pause a moment before clasping my hands. “Could you please retrieve Cinder for me?”
Her complexion lightens, the whites of her eyes growing.
My grasp tightens. “What?”
“Nothing.” She laughs. “I just… She’s exploring. I let her out this afternoon and she bolted for the woods, but she always comes back!”
I say nothing.
“I’ll go look for her.” Raven ducks her head and scurries away.
As soon as her footsteps have faded, I head to my quarters. The sight of my bed makes my eyes heavy, my knees weak. I pull my ring from my desk drawer and lay down, the smell of moonflower settling in my nose.
Sliding the emerald on, I twist it twice around my finger. Close my eyes.
Eventually fall asleep.