“I don’t plan to die,” he said, and I heard the faintest of smiles in his voice. “I would like very much to live, actually. Especially now.” One hand traced small circles against my back, and I pressed closer to him, listening to his heartbeat. “I used to think that having nothing to live for made you a better fighter,” he murmured. “Turns out I was wrong on a lot of fronts.”
Tell him. The words hovered on the tip of my tongue, reluctant to take that final leap. Why was I hesitating? I’d already blurted it out once, in front of Riley, no less. Why was it so hard with Garret? I knew what I was feeling. For the very first time, I was certain.
“Garret,” I began. “I...uh...”
He pressed a palm to my cheek, stroking with a thumb, making me look up. “Tell me when I come back,” he said, his eyes very soft. “It will give me something to look forward to. A reason to walk out of there alive.”
I swallowed hard. “You’d better come back,” I warned him. “If you don’t, I’m going to be very pissed at you, and you don’t want a pissed-off dragon on your tail, even if you are a ghost.”
Garret smiled and bent forward. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Our lips met. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close, and his tightened against my back, pressing us together. There was something desperate in his embrace, something that hinted at resignation and acceptance. He knew he might not be coming back.
I didn’t want to let him go, but he finally pulled away. I looked into his eyes and saw the words I hadn’t been able to voice burning in his gaze, bright and intense.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he murmured. “Wish me luck.”
The words sprang to mind again, warring with the dragon, but I just nodded and gave him a brave smile. “I’ll be here,” I replied. Waiting. Hoping this isn’t the last time I see you. The last chance to tell you what I should said have a long time ago. “Be careful, Garret.”
One last bright, longing glance, and he turned away, walking out of the room and down the hall. I heard Wes mutter something as he passed, heard the front door open and close, and then he was gone.
GARRET
“You know they’re going to try to kill you, right?”
I looked up. Riley was leaning against the wall outside the front door, waiting for me. His expression was cold, and for a second, I tensed, wondering if this was the moment he’d choose to attack. To end what he’d started in the hotel room. Outwardly, he’d been brusque but businesslike, keeping things civil between the three of us, though I could sense the anger roiling beneath the surface.
I paused, one hand on the railing of the stairs, wondering if the statement was more a desperate hope than a question. “I know,” I said, anyway. “But, it has to be done.”
“I don’t get you, St. George.” Riley gave me a look that was a cross between contempt and genuine confusion. “You’ve fought us for years. And now you’re suddenly willing to play martyr, to challenge the Patriarch to his face, because of her?”
“No. Not just because of her. It’s more than that.” I looked away for a second as memories crowded in. The teachings of St. George, the missions of death and slaughter, the rigid Code that could not be broken. “The Order can’t go on like this,” I said, glancing back at the rogue. “Something has to change. For hundreds of years, we’ve waged war and hunted and killed without a thought, when we should have been questioning everything.”
“Yeah, well...” Riley shook his head, his expression curling with disgust, not directed at me this time. “Talon isn’t exactly the most upstanding and righteous organization, either. And the Order of St. George isn’t the only one mired in tradition. If you’re talking about change, you’ve got a massive battle ahead. I’ve seen Talon, what they’re really like. And you know your own Order, better than anyone. They’re giants, St. George, and we’re insects, just trying to stay alive. What chance do we have of them even seeing us?”
“It has to start somewhere,” I replied, knowing I was repeating myself and not caring. One step in the right direction. One conversation between a dragon and a soldier, instead of a massacre. “Ember began this the night she chose to spare a soldier of St. George,” I went on. “I have to continue it. Even if I die, it will get the Order thinking. And maybe more will start to question things, see the war in a different light. It won’t be all at once, and it might take a long time. But we have to try. Otherwise, this fighting and killing will never be over.”