~A Wattpad featured and Wattys Longlisted story~
Lana can hardly remember what it's like to be free. After nine years as a captive on board a ship ruled by ruthless bounty hunters, sailing across Maris with no clear direction, she's desperate for so...
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THERE'S AN ODD feeling after escaping death. As Skye stares at the hundreds of wounded and mourning around him, it makes him wonder why he survived, and if he deserved to be the one that lived. There are so many motionless bodies around him, so many crying faces. He should be one too, but he's not. He has every right to be.
He frowns as he notices his hand subconsciously rubbing the spot where Arlo stabbed him. It was one of the wounds the healers had fixed, but now leaves a shiny scar where the blade had once stabbed him. He scowls and picks at it slightly, hating the fact that this pale mark on his body will forever remind him of the day his uncle betrayed him. He didn't even want to either. It's like how his father's drinking controlled him into doing unspeakable things to him.
Skye guesses that Vyanna's magic isn't the only thing that can control people.
His hands start shaking again, like they had the other day when he was sparring with Bryan, and he clasps them together, hoping to still them. Then, out of anger, out of sadness, the shaking from his hands moves up his whole body, and his body trembles from the pain of everything he's gone through lately. He's truly lost the uncle he's relied upon, the city he grew up in, the girl he's grown to care about, and likely, the war against the Morai.
"Skye?"
He freezes at the sound of Bryan's voice and looks up to see him standing above the other young man with a worried expression on his face. He wears a thick leather jacket with a white tunic underneath, all smeared with blood, and soot. He's probably been fighting the fires around Halsa, while Skye's been just sitting here. He scowls at that, then follows his gaze down to his hands, where his worried expression deepens as he sees them shaking.
"Skye..." he began but Skye cuts him off.
"I don't want to talk about it, alright?" he snaps, but quickly sighs and runs his hands through his hair stressfully. "I'm fine."
"You don't look fine. Actually, you look like you got trampled by a hoard of dragons," Bryan tells him and takes a seat next to him on the cot. "And I would love to help you, but you haven't told anyone what happened to you. I can't help you until you do."
The memory of Arlo's lifeless face flashes before his eyes and he winces. "Nothing happened."
Bryan's expression falls. "Look, I know in the past— "
"It's not about that!" he protests, looking at him, appalled.
"Then what's it about? Because Skye, I'm here to help you," he pleads with Skye, then turns and pulls something out of his jacket pocket, "You know what? I'll give this to you if you tell him what happened."
Skye looks down at the object in his hands, and his eyes widen. There in his hands, lay the bracelet Lana wore on her arm, the one she had left behind in Lyra. He had never given it back to her...
