Page 62 of A Warrior's Fate

Isla, Adrien, and Sebastian had spent a solid hour constructing their plan, plotting in a way that almost rung back to their times as pups. Only now, instead of devising ways to skip lessons or sneak out of their homes, it was inadvertently to save a man’s life. Isla wished there had been a better play than her simply getting in to talk to him under the guise of a nurse as the boys kept the key players who’d be aware of who she was at bay—but they had to work with what they had.

Even as her lids felt heavy, as the urgency of all of this hovered, Isla relished in the moment. Strategizing, taking action, with the prospect of Lukas making it back home safely in her view on the horizon—this was what she loved. What she wanted to do forever. For the continent. For her family.

She could never leave this. Never give it all up.

Even if the hollowness in her chest seemed to grow with each passing second. Even if the whole time they’d schemed, Kai’s voice had lingered in the back of her head, teasing whenever she’d felt any sense of pride. In that way of his that annoyed her yet endeared him to her in a way she couldn’t quite describe and would never, ever admit to him—if she ever even could.

“Is something wrong with your hand?”

Isla snapped her head up at Adrien who was hovering near the door that Sebastian had just disappeared from moments earlier, stating a desire to get a drink at the bar not too far from the infirmary to hit on its tender one last time before they’d departed for Io.

Isla glanced down, realizing she’d been tracing one of her fingers absently over her opposite palm as if lining the threads of light that weren’t there. She quickly separated the two, shoving her hands beneath her crossed legs. “Uh, no.”

That look of concern flashed across Adrien’s face again as he quirked a brow. He was silent for a few seconds, unspoken words dancing in his eyes before—

“The Alpha of Deimos left.”

Isla’s own brows shot up. Why would he bring this up?

“Oh?” she said, trying to sound a mix of nonchalant and surprised.

Adrien hummed in confirmation, leaning back against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Some emergency in Deimos, I heard. I couldn’t get a clear answer on what it was, but it was so dire they had to go in the dead of night.”

To be back by dawn, she wanted to say but kept it to herself.

Upon her quiet, Adrien was standing tall again, making his way slowly to the bed. “Did he say anything to you?”

Isla forced herself to look him dead in the eye. “About what?”

He stopped a mere foot away. “About anything.”

“No. Why would he?”

A long pause.

With a loud breath, Adrien sat down at the foot of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees, focusing not on her but their shadows on the wall in front of him. “I could scent him on you at the Gate once I parsed it out of the magic. You were with him when we couldn’t find you, weren’t you?”

The slightest hitch of Isla’s breath had been picked up on instantly, and she silently cursed herself as Adrien turned to study her face.

She swallowed. Lying felt pointless. “Yes.”

Adrien’s jaw tightened. “Why?”

Steel.

She had to be steel.

They’d promised each other. She and Kai had sworn no one would know about their bond but them.

But—this was Adrien. Her best friend, Adrien.

Her best friend, Adrien, who’d been with her since they were babies. Who she trusted with her life.

Who…had found himself burned by a fated mate bond only a little over a year ago. Who she’d nearly lost because of that damned fated mate bond.

“He was around,” she said before she could second-guess the fabrication. “We bumped into each other, and just—talked.”

“Talked?” he echoed, sounding unconvinced.

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