Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Still in the Sky Lands,” Kaitlyn said sadly. “But I tell you what—Ari has promised to go tell him that you’re still alive. And if there’s any way to get him away from his father, he’ll do it.”
“I don’t like being separated from him.” I squeezed my hands into ineffectual fists, cursing my weakened condition. “You girls have to understand—what if someone took your men away? What if someone kidnapped Griffon?” I asked, appealing to Megan. “Or how about if Bran and Laughlin were stolen away from you?” I asked Emma.
Tears filled her gorgeous purple eyes but she shook her head.
“I understand what you’re saying, Avery—really, we all do. But the Healer says it’s not safe for you to go anywhere for a while.”
“She told me if I’d gotten you here just an hour later you would have been dead—for good this time,” Kaitlyn told me. “I promise you, Ari is going to make the trip really soon. He just needs a little rest before he can make such a long flight again.”
“But—” I began.
“Be reasonable, Avery—you know Saint’s own father won’t hurt him,” Megan told me. “They’re probably just keeping him locked away somewhere. And even if you were well enough to go to him, there’s no way those homophobic Drakes would let you see him.” She glanced at Kaitlyn. “Er, no offense.”
“None taken—you’re absolutely right, they’re awful,” Kaitlyn said grimly. She looked at me. “You’re just going to have to be patient and let things die down for a minute, Avery. Ari has promised to do everything in his power to bring Saint back. Maybe now that the curse on his Drake is broken, his Sire will let him come back here and attend Nocturne again.”
“I doubt it,” I said darkly. “He’s hates gays almost as much as my own father. The two of them ought to get together and form an anti-LGBTQ club.”
Just at that moment, right outside the healing room where I was currently trapped by my own weakness, someone cleared their throat. It was a deep sound—and familiar. I had heard it every morning growing up. Goddess, was it—?
And then my father put his head in the door.
“Excuse me, girls,” he said formally to my coven mates. “But I’ve come to see my son.”
38
AVERY
The first thing my father did was to shoo away my coven mates.
“Could we have a little privacy?” he asked them. “I need to talk to my son.”
The three of them exchanged glances and I could tell they didn’t like it, but there wasn’t really any way to refuse. After all, he was my father—it wasn’t like he was going to hurt me. Right?
“We’ll come back later to check on you,” Megan promised as they filed out.
“Get well and be strong,” Emma ordered.
“Ari will go back to the Sky Lands soon.” Kaitlyn squeezed my hand.
Then they were gone and I was alone with my father for the first time in years. Yes, literally—because I usually made sure my mom was there to keep the peace between us if I knew he was going to be around. Also, he generally avoided me like the plague.
I was truly surprised to see him here. I wouldn’t have expected him to care that I was at death’s doorstep—or had been before the Healer got hold of me.
“Did you hear that I was injured?” I asked neutrally, trying to keep my face blank.
“No, but when I came here to ask for you this is where they sent me.” He was keeping a calm façade too. Neither of us was talking about our last encounter when he had basically disowned me after shoving my mom like some crude Neanderthal. And if you think it sounds like I was feeling hateful towards my own father, congratulations—you’re absolutely right.
“Well, here I am,” I said, shrugging. I was getting tired of him just standing there, staring at me. “What do you want?”
“What I want is to fix you, son.” He gave me a serious look which I had a hard time interpreting.
“Well…thanks but I’ll be okay,” I said, frowning. “The Healer had to give me a few blood transfusion charms but I’m healing up just fine so—”
“No—that’s not the part I need to fix.”
He leaned over me, staring into my eyes. The expression on his face was so intense it was almost frightening.
“Uh, Dad—you’re making me uncomfortable,” I said, and I was practically squirming in the bed. I wished he wasn’t so much bigger than me—he always made me feel like a little kid again when he got too close. I felt like the same six-year-old who had used my magic needle for the first time and disappointed him so bitterly.
“I’m going to fix you, son,” he said again and I saw that he was reaching into his pocket. He withdrew a plain white envelope and opened it. He reached inside and pinched his fingers together, like he was gathering something—or maybe a lot of little somethings. When he withdrew his hand, he began sprinkling whatever it was all over me.