Jarvis would promise they weren’t giving up, and Ansley would hate himself because he couldn’t do more, but Dallin didn’t need any of that.
“Penley and Keylon can be very convincing,” Meyer said with an answering smile.
“Don’t I know that.I guess I could eat.”
Meyer’s smile widened.“Great.I was a little afraid of what they might do to me if I returned without you.”
“They’re both sweethearts.They’d probably hug you to death or something.”
Meyer nodded.“That would be a good way to go.It also might be nice to feel like someone cares about me.”
From the way Meyer pressed his lips together, Dallin suspected he hadn’t meant to say that last part.Dallin wanted to tell him about his conversation with Tyne, but it wasn’t his place.He thought that Tyne keeping what had happened between them a secret was stupid, but he couldn’t break his confidence.Tyne would never forgive him if he did, and he wasn’t sure it would help, anyway.
“There are plenty of people who care about you,” Dallin said gently, but he understood that wasn’t what Meyer had meant.
“I know,” Meyer said, giving Dallin a stiff smile.“Are you coming, then?”
Dallin didn’t want to, but he sighed and pushed his chair away from his desk.“I’ll come downstairs with you.”
“Good.Jillian said she’d made your favorite.”
Dallin needed to remember that he was loved, too.Tyne might never allow Meyer back into his life, and Dallin might lose Sol, but they still had plenty of people in their lives who loved them and would die for them.
Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.
* * * *
BLOOD STREAMED DOWNSol’s face.He wasn’t sure what had hit him, but he didn’t think it had been Carlyle’s fist.It had been hard, but at the same time, it had felt ephemeral.It was an odd sensation, but Sol would rather focus on that than on the pain pulsing in his cheek.
“Why isn’t it working?”Carlyle screamed as he grabbed the closest object—which unfortunately happened to be the table he’d been working on—and threw it at Sol.
Normally, Sol would have been able to avoid it, but Carlyle had frozen him again.He couldn’t move a muscle, not even to avoid the table as it hit him.He supposed he should feel lucky that he was already on the floor.The bruises would be confined to his front since he’d caught the table in his chest.
Sol wasn’t sure how much time had passed while Carlyle continued throwing objects around and screeching.Sol was tired.It was clear that Carlyle was a powerful mage, but he was increasingly frustrated, and he sounded more and more like a toddler angry because his toy wasn’t doing what he wanted it to do.Eventually, he’d break it.
He’d breakSol.
This time, when Carlyle left, he didn’t lift the spell off Sol.For long minutes, Sol lay there, blood dripping on the floor, wondering if he would ever be free.Then his body sagged, and he breathed easier.He didn’t know if Carlyle had released him or if the distance had something to do with it, but he didn’t care.
Right then, he didn’t care about much but himself.He gingerly touched his cheek where Carlyle had hit him, not one bit surprised to see blood on his fingertips.His cheek was already swelling.He’d be a sight once Carlyle was done with him.Carlyle had been becoming increasingly violent, and he seemed to love taking it out on Sol.
Sol wanted to sleep and forget about the messy situation he was in, but instead, he dragged himself closer to the bars and sat with his back against the wall.He waited for Graham, knowing that the man would come around.He always did after Carlyle beat up Sol.Sol wasn’t sure if it was because Graham cared or because he felt guilty, but the reason behind his behavior didn’t matter.He was worried about Sol, so maybe he’d help him.
When Graham finally appeared, Sol was ready.He wrapped his fingers around one of the bars and pressed as close as he could.“I just need you to let me out of this cell,” he begged.“That’s it.You don’t have to help me in any other way if you don’t feel up for it.You just have to free me.I’ll find my way out of this place, and you’ll never hear from me again.”
Graham had started cleaning up the mess Carlyle had left, but he stopped moving.He was listening to Sol.
“I don’t know what you want,” Sol quickly said.“I mean, if you want to come with me, you can.If you’re too scared or if you want to stay here, I’ll understand.I won’t force you to do anything.I swear I won’t attack you.”
Graham didn’t say anything, but Sol could tell he was softening.He was still terrified—which Sol could understand, considering that Carlyle had just thrown a table at him—but maybe Sol was finally starting to get through to him.He just needed Graham to let him out of the cell.He’d take care of everything else himself.
“Please,” he repeated.“Whatever you want, I’ll help you with.You need to let me go before Carlyle kills me.”
Because Sol had no doubt that if he stayed, Carlylewouldkill him.It wasn’t a question ofif.It was a question ofwhen.
Chapter Five
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