We will not fulfill any book request that does not come through the book request page or does not follow the rules of requesting books. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Comments are manually approved by us. Thus, if you don't see your comment immediately after leaving a comment, understand that it is held for moderation. There is no need to submit another comment. Even that will be put in the moderation queue.

Please avoid leaving disrespectful comments towards other users/readers. Those who use such cheap and derogatory language will have their comments deleted. Repeat offenders will be blocked from accessing this website (and its sister site). This instruction specifically applies to those who think they are too smart. Behave or be set aside!

The Puppeteer and The Poisoned Pawn: Chapter 33

Together Again

“Ah, the sweet scent of intercourse.

I flinch at the intrusive voice flowing through the meadow. And as the man next to me rises to his feet to glare at the trespasser, I can tell by his stance that Dessin has come back.

But his shoulders relax as he realizes who it is. Niles’s head pokes out of the trees, waving nervously at us. I sigh with a grin.

“Can we come to hang out yet, or do we have to keep pretending like this isn’t mating season?” Niles shouts.

Chekiss’s voice is muffled. But I can tell he’s scolding Niles.

I snicker, and Dessin rolls his eyes, then looks at me. “Is it brain damage, or did I actually miss him?”

“Come on,” I call to Niles.

The group walks out of the evergreen trees, all hanging their heads in slight embarrassment… except for Niles. He’s not walking, he’s strutting.

“It’s true… he’s really alive,” Ruth says to Warrose.

Warrose just stares ahead, jaw clenched and hazel eyes clear of any emotion. His steps are heavy, like a warrior returning home after a long battle. One where he had to make hard choices. One where he had to become someone he wasn’t proud of.

I look back at Dessin, who darts his gaze away from his old friend, clearly not ready to address whatever is sitting between them.

“Skylenna finally looks like a woman again!” Niles does a little fist pump. “The old butcher’s wife wasn’t working.”

I smirk as Chekiss swats his good arm. “Be nice.”

“We have food on the fire if you’re hungry,” Dessin addresses the group.

“I’ve already fed them,” Warrose clips.

Niles makes an O with his lips as he looks back and forth between the two men. He catches my eye, and I shake my head. Don’t get involved, Niles.

Ruth takes a step toward me, with the elegant stance of a ballerina, failing to meet my eyes. She’s wearing dirty brown trousers and a white tunic that’s two sizes too big for her thin frame. I glance over the elfin features of her face. The upward pointed nose. The long curly lashes. The glowing olive skin. Yet, looking past her beauty, there’s a hurt that wallows under the surface. Her brown eyes no longer sparkle with optimism. They wilt with a weight she hides well.

You. Arent. My. Sister.

The words I wounded her with at Dessin’s funeral boom in my ears. I hit her hard and fast, and even though she knew I was suffering, that I was speaking from a place of pain, it didn’t stop her from second-guessing everything. Ruth abandoned her life for me. For our family. She has stuck by me through it all. And I discredited that with one horrible statement.

I don’t have it in me to address the damage I had done when I was mourning the death of the men I love. I didn’t have room then for the guilt that wrapped itself firmly around my heart. But I have room now.

“Ruth.”

She meets my eyes.

“I didn’t mean it,” I breathe.

“I know.”

“You are my sister.”

Ruth closes the distance between us, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. And the rest of our words are muffled by the other’s hair. Statements like, I’m sorry, I love you, I’m glad you’re better now, thank you for staying with me.

And then a pair of arms circles around us. I see the burns on his neck as Niles makes this a group hug, humming his approval that we made up.

“Niles! Let them have their moment.” Chekiss. It’s always Chekiss scolding Niles like a child. Ruth and I giggle.

“They practically begged me to join in,” Niles argues.

“Uh. No, we did not,” Ruth mutters against my shoulder.

“Shhh.” Niles pats the top of Ruth’s head. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

Everyone takes a seat around the fire, getting comfortable as the sun begins to set. The fall air drops to a chilly temperature, not cold, but low enough that we all lean into the warmth of the fire.

DaiSzek trots back to us, looking curiously at our new audience.

“I haven’t seen black beastie since…” Niles trails off. And by the glazed look in his eyes, I’m there with him. In the sand. The burning pikes. DaiSzek locked in the cage. Niles’s screams surround me. A hollow sound that bounces off the trees, spinning in the air over my head. I wince, placing my hands over my ears, careful not to draw attention.

But DaiSzek’s cinnamon eyes lock on Niles, redirecting his path to him. Paws sinking into the soil. Head lowered in a nonthreatening approach. Niles stiffens, looking between Dessin and me for help. I nod encouragingly, and DaiSzek lowers himself to the ground, carefully laying his fat head in Niles’s lap.

“No. Fucking. Way.” Niles is starstruck, mouth hanging open, eyes glued to the black fur tickling his legs. He looks up at us like this might be a mistake, like, at any moment, DaiSzek might realize he accidentally rested his head on the enemy. And, naturally, he’ll rip Niles’s face off.

Ruth smiles, cooing at the interaction. “He must like you now!”

But Niles is still sitting with his back straight as a rod, unmoving, unblinking, and unwilling to make a sound.

I spit out a laugh. “Pet him!”

“Uh, no thanks.”

As if DaiSzek has sensed the fear seeping from Niles’s pores, he licks the burns on his hand, slow, intentional motions meant to show us that he is not a danger to the man who saved him from the cage on the beach.

Niles releases a breath. His face drooping at the contact. It takes him a moment to process, but his hand finally reaches down to stroke the top of DaiSzek’s head, softly combing through his shiny fur.

“Now that we’ve wasted a portion of my life ogling at Niles and DaiSzek, we should discuss what comes next.” Dessin doesn’t fail to steal the magic from the moment like a little monster that sucks the fun out of everything.

Honestly, I’d rather not think about what comes next. I’ve been through the wringer, and I took everyone through hell with me. I want nothing more than to enjoy the company of my family. No talk of war. No talk of Vexamen.

“Demechnef probably knows I’m alive by now. Aurick would have had Skylenna followed.”

I nod. I definitely was followed. But they kept their distance, so it didn’t bother me too much.

“They’ll give us a little time, but not much. And I’ve been thinking…” Dessin gives me a sidelong glance. “We’ve been warned that there’s going to be a great war soon. And judging by the way the colonies were all so invested in Skylenna and me, I think it’s a safe bet that we’re important to ending that war.”

“You’re suggesting that we work with Demechnef.” My annoyance with the proposal isn’t masked. Why would I want to work with the people who ruined my life? Who ruined the lives of us all?

“Not exactly,” Dessin says, turning to face me. “I’m suggesting we force them to work for us.”

Warrose snorts. “And while we’re at it, let’s outlaw the lady-doll regimen and ban the oppression of our women.”

“Skylenna is different now. She has the ability to uncover any weakness. Theoretically, she could even figure out what Judas’s purpose is in all this. He is the one that warned us about the war after all.”

I want to smile at Dessin’s confidence in me. It’s always been the other way around. We’ve relied on him for everything.

“You think I can change the power dynamic?”

Dessin hardens his gaze on me, and he lifts his chin in full confidence. “I know you can.”

“How?” Warrose asks.

“Skylenna will have to figure that out. We’ll need leverage. Something to tip the scales. Aurick won’t want to spend time fighting us when Vexamen is right on their heels.”

Awesome. No pressure.

After a while, we decide to eat dinner together. Dessin rations out the hog he hunted and cooked. Warrose passes around his canteen of rum. Normally, I wouldn’t choose to drink hard liquor. But—we’re together again. Our family made it out of this craziness in one piece. It’s cause for celebration.

I throw back a swig of the spicy drink, wincing as it burns a trail down my throat.

The meat is cooked through perfectly. Tender. Juicy. And even though we didn’t have seasoning, it’s flavorful. I smile as I tear into it. It’s been so long since I’ve eaten and experienced that rush of dopamine.

“What’s that noise?” Niles asks, looking around.

I pause midbite, searching the trees that are dimly lit by the lowering sun. Everyone goes still. Has Demechnef come for us already?

But there isn’t even the chirping sound of crickets.

“I don’t hear anything,” I say.

Dessin looks up from his food. “Skylenna hums when she eats.”

Niles barks out a laugh. “What are you, five?!”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. Shit. Was I humming? But Dessin pats my hand. A hint of a smile on his lips. He nods for me to keep eating.

“I think it’s cute,” Ruth snickers, reaching into her pack. A glass jar filled with a moss-green substance falls into her lap. “Shirt off.” She nods her head at Niles.

I look back and forth between the two of them. But my moment of confusion is quickly quieted as Niles yanks his ash gray shirt over his head, unveiling the morphed skin over his right arm, shoulder blade, and a little speckled over his ribs.

A shiver prickles over my arms and legs. It looks better than it did the first day, but still shiny and bright red. My throat bobs. He’s been traveling through these forests just to make sure I was okay. He’s endured unspeakable suffering without a single complaint.

For me.

For our family.

Ruth scoops out a handful of the moss-green cream and begins rubbing it over Niles’s burns, slowly, methodically, careful not to apply too much pressure. And he doesn’t even wince. Instead, he trains his attention on DaiSzek’s big head still slung across his lap. I don’t think there was ever a happier man in the whole world at this moment.

Chekiss catches my stare. “I offered to apply the medicine, but Niles seems to think my energy would make it worse. He needed a woman’s touch.”

“It’s true. Verbatim.” Ruth snorts.

My chest tightens. I open my mouth to say something. Maybe an apology for leaving Niles to make a decision that literally scarred him for life. For not being there to hold his hand during a vicious recovery period. There’s so much to make up for.

“You did a brave thing on that beach.” Dessin’s voice rumbles through the silence. Low and meaningful as he takes another bite of his food. “We all owe you our lives for that.”

Ruth stops her application, watching Niles for his reaction, and Chekiss pats him on the unharmed arm. A glint of pride in his smile.

Niles doesn’t look up from his lap. He continues watching his own hand caressing the black fur. “I’d do it again.”

“I wish you never had to,” I say, swallowing down the bile in my throat. “I’m sorry I left you, Niles. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

Niles takes a moment, pausing his attention on DaiSzek. And I can tell he’s been waiting to say whatever is on the tip of his tongue.

“I understand why you’ve been gone. But you don’t get to walk away from us again. You don’t get to shut down or turn your back on your family.” His eyes flash to Dessin. “Neither of you do. No more keeping secrets. No more going rogue. I get you two are madly in love, and the world revolves around the other’s axis, and I know I don’t contribute a whole hell of a lot to your mastermind plans or lethal expertise in combat. But I would literally walk through fire to keep our family together.”

Tears sting the backs of my eyes, and I hear his screams again, loud and agonizing. But I maintain eye contact because that’s what he deserves.

“I’ve never known what it’s like to have a family.” Dessin shifts uncomfortably next to me, speaking with the same level of darkness yet in a quieter tone, like he’s really trying to connect. “Kane is better at this than I am. But—I am grateful to be a part of this one. And,”—he glances over at me and sighs—“the secrets are behind us. From now on, we’ll make decisions together.”

I sit in silence, stunned at Dessin’s response. He’s grumpy and only ever sentimental toward me. It’s a rare moment that he bonds with anyone else.

“You have our word,” I say. And I mean it. I’m grateful Niles had the nerve to stand up to us and put me in my place after all of the stress I put them through.

There’s a beat of silence. It’s comfortable. Heartwarming.

And I want a weapons belt like Dessin,” Niles adds.

“Absolutely not.” Warrose shoots him a look.

“Why not?”

“You’ll poke your own eye out.”

Nile shrugs like it was worth a try.

As we settle in to go to sleep, fireflies swarm the field, hovering over us, and blending in with the stars.

And DaiSzek doesn’t leave Niles’s side.


Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset