“I did not.”
I narrowed my eyes, not wanting to rehash past conversations because I’d already brought her on board. “Then, I trust her.”
He lightly pushed my head forward so that I was looking down at the hardwood floor as he braided near the nape of my neck. “Go on,” he said with a flat tone, as if he was accepting orders from his princess.
His lack of faith in Rosaanne suddenly constricted around my throat. “Have I made a mistake?”
Fletcher remained quietly breathing as he began the last section of hair. When he reached the end, he sighed. “I guess we shall see.”
Anxiety roiled in my stomach at Fletcher’s passive disapproval. “I trust her,” I repeated again, more to convince myself than him.
Again, there was a long stretch of silence, but I could hear Fletcher thinking loudly. After he braidedthe tails of the three sections together, tying it off with a thin silver ribbon, he helped me to my feet and turned me to face him. He moved his hand under my ear and stroked my cheek with his thumb. “If you trust her, then I do too.”
A half grin was all I could give him as I stepped into his comforting gravity. “For this to work, I need to give blood. A lot of it.”
His face hardened, disapproval brushing across his stone-cold expression.
“I know. But I cannot use my magic because of the split. You need more. Rosaanne needs some to practice with. We need to make these glass tiles as indestructible as the ones at the facility.” I wrapped my arms around his waist, hoping it would soften his seriousness. It didn’t. “And, Mirin. Plus, there’s Aldris. And anyone else who we invite on our team will need my blood to practice breaking the magic around glass tiles. Then there needs to be enough for the day we decide to attack.”
His face paled as I watched him take a hard swallow. “The idea of you giving blood—sharingyour blood makes me ill. We’ll think of another way.”
I shook my head and held him tighter. “There isn’t another way. This will work. It’ll be fast and inconspicuous and quiet.”
His hands came down on my shoulders as he pushed me away to look in my eyes. “Your blood can be addictive, even to Elizians. What if Aldris has some serious side effects.”
“Then we’ll give him a little at first and monitor him.”
When a hand scrubbed down his face, I released him.
“It’ll be okay, Fletcher. We are so close to ending this. This means everything to me. We have to do this. I have to save them.”
He exhaled loudly. “It’s too many people to save and not enough blood you could give to make it happen.”
Annoyed that he wasn’t budging, I knew where my confidence lay. With myself. “It’s not your choice. I’m doing it with or without you. I will burn that place to ashes.”
He huffed and took a step away, like the distance was supposed to help him disconnect from what he felt for me.
With his response of silence, I decided I’d share what had been rolling through my mind since Mirin suggested it. “I think that might mean involving Graff, Jarvy, and Decksin. They are loyal to me.”
His face scrunched with disgust. “Hard pass.” That intoxicating aura of his hate dripped in darkness scattered around him, enveloping me.
I wondered then if this was what the bond to me would feel like if I had access to it. Perhaps I just knew him well, but I didn’t like sensing his ire. “Fletcher…” I stepped forward, reaching out for his arms to comfort him.
“I may be able to get on board with Graff, but Jarvy and Decksin, no. I have known them for a very long time. I don’t trust a hair on their bodies. They are selfish and reckless and immature. They cannot handle a mission of this caliber.”
I gulped.
“This is already getting too big. The more people who know, the more likely there will be a leak to the Cidris. This plan hinges on the element of surprise and me finding out when those halls are the least active.”
“Okay then. We just keep it between you, me, Aldris, Mirin, Rosaanne.”
His arms wrap around me with tension, like it was the only way for him to accept the idea. But as he gained confidence in me, I lost some in myself. Fletcher may be right. Maybe getting Rosaanne on board was a bad idea. I had gone rogue and we were a team. Something twisted in my gut. Guiding Fletcher to follow my lead for once was far more nerve-racking than I could have imagined.
My skin grew sticky with sweat and achy where the needles were plunged into my veins. They burned and itched as my arms lay on a set of pillows by my sides. Short strands of inky hair fell like a curtain in front of my face. My head hung forward and that nasty headache I hadn’t felt since the cages throbbed.
“We’re done, Ripley,” Fletcher urged while sitting on the chair across from me, his hand on my thigh for the last three hours.
“No,” I grumbled in a breath. “I can give more.”
