Page 41 of Caged By the Ruthless Thief

“I can talk to Alder,” Kai quips. “Being quiet and calm doesn’t mean never speaking.” She gives Dar a look.

“Of course you can, Kai.” Dad pushes up on his elbows. He’s got a soft spot for Kai. She’s the daughter he never had.

“Right.” She throws a look at her mate. “You’re looking a lot better. I wouldn’t be surprised if the doctor lets you up and about soon.”

“I hope so. Not that I mind staying here. But I’m anxious to get back to my own bed,” Dad says.

“I bet you are. I have this for you.” Kai takes something out of a basket, and Dad greedily stuffs it under his pillow. I’m sure it’s one of my mother’s shirts. For a long time, I thought about how unhealthy it was, the way he always has a piece of her old musty clothing under his pillow. But now I understand. “All right then, you two. Be good and get some more rest.” She pulls my blanket up.

Now I want to roll my eyes, and I never roll my eyes. “I don’t need any more rest. What I need is to talk to your brother.”

“I’ll give him your message.” She holds her finger up to her mate to keep him from scolding her. The door shuts behind her, and it’s Dad, me, and some unnamed unlucky hunk of meat guarding me.

“You can take a break and get some food. If he falls asleep, I’ll come get you,” Alder says.

“I’m not going to fall asleep. I might never sleep again.” I glare at the beefy merman.

He stands and stretches his legs. The wooden chair he’s been sitting in creaks in relief. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he grunts. He’s had enough of us. I don’t blame the poor soul.

“She’s a nice female, isn’t she?”

“Kai? I suppose.”

“No, your mate. She must put up with you.”

I grunt and almost smile. “Yes, Dad.”

“Don’t you ‘yes, Dad’ me. You know you’ve always been this way, even back in school. When you were on the team.” Then he goes through every team I ever played on, as well as most of the scores to the more important games. He follows that up with the ones that Holter played on. “The big game, Holter’s last year. The final was eight to five.” He nods at me like he’s solved the puzzle to the Dorian population issue.

“It was ten to eight. I came home from the academy to watch it.”

“So you did. Yes, you’re right. You were wearing that old school scarf you wore the first time in middle school for the Vividaria pageant.”

“Yes.” I wore it because Holter had made it.

“Holter made it. Right?” Dad says at the same time I think it.

“Yes.”

“You’re a good brother.”

I’m not sure what to say to that. “I could be better.”

“We could all be better, but you do the best you can. I know you do. You know how proud I am of you?”

I have no answer.

“Well, I’m damn proud, and not just because of the chasm thing. I mean, I’m happy as an uneaten clam over that. Not dead always beats dead. No, I’m proud of you for loving your brother and letting him take care of you. I know that’s hard for you.”

I think about what I did to my brother. How I suggested—no, told him—to mate her and then let her go. That was the shittiest thing I have ever done. And I’ve done some shit, most of which I don’t regret.

There’s a loud knock on the door.

“Come in,” my dad says.

I’ve been glaring between dad and the door for the last day. No one who’s come into the room has been anyone I want to actually talk to. Ophelia is controlling the flow, and now she’s here in person.

Her perfume floats in the air in front of her. “Alder, Nico.” She smiles, smoothing the blankets at the bases of our beds.

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