Which role am I to play this time?
It’s usually more obvious to me by this point, but now that I know I’m not here for a specific mission, everything’s muddled. The feel of Farin’s warm breath against my lips is not helping to clear things up.
“Sweet ones. The kind who rescue puppies on their off days,” I say, to which Farin’s face twists in confusion.
It’s enough to break the tension between us, for which I’m rather grateful.
“You asked earlier what sort of male I find myself drawn to,” I say, casually slipping out from underneath his grasp as it loosens around my wrists.
“Oh, I very much doubt that,” he says, and I find myself grateful that I’m turned far enough away that he can’t see the girlish smile breaking across my face.
It’s rather dangerous territory I’m stepping into, helping Farin get back to the woman he so desires. Or, at least, pretending that I am.
Because there’s no eyelet at the end of this journey, not that I’m aware of, at least.
It’s not that there’s not a way out of this world.
Nox wasn’t the only memory that caused my nightmares growing up.
It’s just that I have no intention of admitting to Farin how I can open up my own way out.
Hero or villain?
Which am I this time?
Lying to Farin might get me off this island, might help to ensure that my brother gets the happy ending he deserves, but it will probably end up with me dead.
But let’s just say after dozens of lives lived, I’m bored, and I’m up for a novel experience.
CHAPTER 83
NOX
“Why haven’t you left?”
The question hangs in the air before us, stale as three-week-old snow during the single month of summer Mystral’s allotted.
My father looks up from his ledgers, shuffling uncomfortably, as if he’s sure he’s misheard me.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, why haven’t you left? You didn’t think Zora or I were ever coming back. Why didn’t you leave?”
My father sets down his ledgers, shutting them. A bloom of dust shoots out, dispersing in the air.
“Your mother isn’t well enough for me to just pick up and take her somewhere new, son.”
I run my hands through my hair, frustrated at my father’s avoidance of the question. “No, I mean why haven’t you left Mother?”
My father’s throat bobs, and for the first time since I’ve arrived, true, unfiltered concern flickers in his eyes. “Why would you think I’d leave your mother, Nox?”
I sigh, slumping back against the chair. “How long has she been like this?” It comes out as more of a demand than I intend it to, but everything I do lately seems to be following a similar pattern.
“It comes and goes,” is all he says, then thoughtfully he adds, “It’s worse in the dark months.”
“You live in Mystral, Father. The dark months make up most of the year.”
Father sighs. “I’ve tried to convince her to move somewhere brighter. Even Dwellen. But she always says she wants to be right here when you and Zora find your way back home.”
The bile in my stomach curdles.
“But you didn’t think either of us were ever coming back.”
My father frowns. “My heart hadn’t given up hope. For either of you. But no. I had no expectation that I would ever see you again.”
“So you stayed for nothing.”
“Your mother is not nothing, Nox.”
“She’s a shell.”
My father’s chest heaves, and I can’t tell if it’s in frustration or anguish, or a bit of both. “What is this about?”
“I just…I just think you have the potential to be happy. I saw the way you smiled at Jean today, and I thought—”
“Jean’s not my wife.”
“No, but how long has it been since Mother has been that for you, either?”
