Page 33 of The Lands Defying
“I don’t know,” he cries.
“You don’t know?” he asks incredulously.
“No!” he chokes out.
Darius shakes him a little. “Who did you sell your child to?”
The male’s eyes come back to him, and he whispers the name we all suspected.
Ten
Rhea
Cleaning our hands off in the lake, I keep my eyes on the two bodies that are slowly sinking beneath the surface and will eventually be swept away by the waves.
I feel no remorse for their deaths. They will not be another stain on my soul.
They both deserved to die for what they had done. How could they sell their child? Why wouldn’t they fight with everything they had to make sure she was safe.
They weren’t forced to hand their babe over, Charles would have just stolen her and killed them. But we suspect Charles would rather offer them coins and titles rather than have people go missing in a high number.
There is already a harrowing amount of names on the lists we have, if you add at least one death of a parent to that, the number is doubled and more cause for concern among the villagers.
It’s easy to say a child died of a fever then covering up multiple murders.
Darius shakes his wet hands off next to me, scowling into the lake.
“At least we confirmed that the list of names are accurate in what we suspected. They are missing people that Charles had taken.”
I nod. “I thought I would feel some sort of relief after it was confirmed, that maybe we could now start to get somewhere, but I just feel… sad, useless.”
Darius’s hand comes to my nape. “We have to hope that those on this list, including your pack, are still breathing.”
I close my eyes as he massages my neck, his thumb on my pulse. “There are so many names, Darius, so many,” I whisper, swallowing roughly.
“There are,” he says gruffly. “But it’s a start. My father mentioned a place, Zaigar, in his notes. Maybe they are all in the same place.”
I look out toward the lake, wondering how we are supposed to accomplish everything we want. The people need to know just who their Highers are, we need to protect them from the rogures, and we need to find those who are missing.
“How many more parents gave away their children, and how many died from trying to prevent it,” I wonder.
A hand on my cheek has me turning toward Darius. “Questions like that will do no good wondering the answer.” He puts a hand inside his cloak and pulls something out.
My eyes widen at it. “When did you…”
“When you weren’t looking,” he chuckles, holding up the glass wolf and twirling it between his fingers.
“It’s beautiful.” I say watching as the color shines on our cloaks.
“I know you liked it.” He lifts my hand and drops the wolf into my palm.
“For me?” I ask, my fingers trailing over its tail. It reminds me of my carvings, and I realize I haven’t done it in a while.
“I know you are struggling with not being able to get your wolf out, but maybe looking at this will help visualize it.” He doesn’t look at me as he says this, his eyes on the water and I smile.
This big, grumpy male.
“You don’t have to look like you have eaten something vile when you say that,” I laugh, nudging him lightly. He grunts. “Thank you, Darius,” I say softly.
