Sewn & Scarred (The Fated Creations Trilogy #3)

Chapter Sixty-TwoWyott

Chapter Sixty-Two

Wyott

W e all left the room, save for Rasa and Kovarrin. Before the door swung to close behind us, I could hear Rasa turning to Kovarrin and begin to chastise him. To question him.

Maddox turned to me as we left, falling back a step so Evaline and Cora strode in front of us discussing the marina.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, walking at my side.

I didn’t know what was worse. That my father was a Vasi, in Vasier’s grasp, or that Kovarrin would do nothing to get him back. Nothing to stop Vasier, at all.

My hand swung up to run through my hair—I’d forgotten to grab a fucking hair tie before we left the house earlier—and I shook my head.

“I don’t know what I am,” I whispered back, and saw Cora’s shoulders tighten, knew she could hear me.

Maddox bumped his shoulder with mine. “We’re going to figure this out. The first step is to take the ward down.” He nodded forward toward Sage. “We’ll have to follow her lead on when we’ll do it, but when we do, do you want to come? Help take your mind off everything?”

He turned back to me, and I met his eyes.

I knew he was trying to help. To reach out, to be there for me. And the guilt in my gut was swift as I recognized the ugly contempt in my heart. Jealousy that he got what he wanted—who he wanted—back from Mortithev, but that I didn’t.

I knew it was wrong, and I knew it was fleeting. Only a reaction to the events that had so quickly unfolded, but that didn’t make the feeling go away. It only left me feeling doubly awful. Harboring a secret anger that he was whole again, and I wasn’t, and hatred for myself for ever thinking that way.

My head tilted forward again, I wanted to hide the feelings before he could notice them, and I swallowed.

“I don’t think so, Mads,” I said quietly. “I think I need some time to figure this out on my own.”

In my peripheral, I could see him nod his head. “I understand. I just want you to know that I’m here.”

The two Sorceresses and their mates stayed inside to schedule the ward dismantling, while Cora and I left the manor.

She looped her hand through my arm as we descended the stairs, and angled us for home, but I could hear how her heart raced. Could feel the anxiety buzzing down the bond.

Go, I said softly, slowing my stride. I spoke down the bond so no Vasi nearby could hear us. If I tilted my head, I’d see them.

But I didn’t turn.

She looked up at me. Really? I don’t have to, we can go home and—

I shook my head. No, darling. You need to go, you’re their leader, and you need to prepare. I stopped us and turned to her. I need to talk to Sage anyway, about my father. You go and I’ll meet you back home.

She chewed on her lip and I felt that same flip of my stomach that I always did when I looked at her, at her effortless beauty. And for a moment, I was thankful for the feeling. Thankful to feel anything other than despair.

Her gaze was off, toward the marina, but her foot bounced below her as I knew she warred with herself.

I lifted my hands to her face and tilted her head toward me. I kissed the top of it gently and felt her leg stop bouncing.

It’s really okay. I can handle it. I’ll feel better knowing that you’re doing what you need to do and not worrying about me.

She looked up, a small smile on her lips. I always worry about you . But then her eyes grew serious again. You’re sure you don’t need me? Not even to talk to Sage?

I nodded. I’m sure.

She took a deep breath. Okay, but only until dark. Then I’ll meet you at home. Okay?

We kissed goodbye and I watched her off. I looked back toward the manor. Sage and Dean hadn’t exited yet, so I made my way for the loft and took a seat on the stone stairs as I waited for them to come back.

It was only a few minutes after I sat down that I heard their approach, and stood. “I hope it’s not a bother, but I was wondering if I could talk to you?” I asked, looking to Sage.

Her eyes saddened and she nodded. “Of course it’s not a bother, Wyott.”

She walked up the steps past me and opened the door, so I followed her in. Dean swung his thumb back behind him.

“I’ll go see everyone next door and come back when you’re all finished,” he said, before shutting the door behind him. I was thankful for the privacy.

I turned back to Sage, to see a worried look wind over her features.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, then let out a breath and rolled my eyes. “Well, besides everything.”

She swallowed and dropped her elbow to lean against the work table on her right.

“The compulsion,” she whispered.

I nodded, walking toward her. “You’re afraid he has you compelled?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “He clearly has done it before, and like Kovarrin said, he could’ve compelled me to do something, and it’s just in my head waiting to go off.”

I pursed my lips. “It’s not completely how compulsion works. You can be compelled to forget something or to believe something that isn’t true. Or you can be compelled to not do something, like portaling Evaline. But it would be hard to find the proper mechanism to actually have you compelled to do something without him being here.” I shrugged. “Compulsion is a very literal thing, you have to be told exactly what to do, or what not to do. Since you’re not around him, I don’t know how he would be able to still have compulsion over you. But still, having Dean with you will help. So that if you start to do something, he can try to help you through it, like before.”

Sage looked at the ground in thought. “Well, at least it’s only Charlotte and I we need to be worried about being compelled by him. It could’ve been worse.”

My brows furrowed and I shook my head. “What do you mean?”

“Dean, Grant, Nash, Fredrik, and Maddox were all with Vasier in Mortithev, too. When I helped to abduct them.”

I swallowed at the information because none of us had realized that back in the war room. Or at least if anyone did, they didn’t say.

“How do we know he didn’t compel them?” I asked.

Sage straightened and moved to the kitchen.

“When I took them all to Mortithev before Maddox was changed. I was with my father the entire time they were in his dungeons. All except when Maddox first came to in Mortithev, and when he was tortured. Otherwise, my father was with me.” She grabbed a teapot and filled it with water, then walked it over to the fireplace. “He made me give him all the information I could, since we had more time together than my normal brief reports back to him. And, he wanted me to look as tired and abducted as the rest of them, so he made me stay up the entire time they were there to sell the manipulation.” She hung the teapot on its hook, and turned back toward me. “And he turned Maddox. After that, I was upset with him before they sent us all back. I was angry, and he told me that it was always his plan.” She shook her head, and I saw the pain that settled over her face. “Vasier wouldn’t have wasted time compelling him if he planned to turn him.”

I nodded as I took in all the information, as I was reminded again of how deep her betrayal had gone.

I tried to remind myself that I’d forgiven her. But that only lasted a moment before a harsh accusation fell into my head, and I barely dulled it down before it left my lips.

“Did you know?” I whispered.

Sage’s eyes widened as she took a step forward, shaking her head furiously.

“No, Wyott. I swear. I had no idea. I met him when I was a little girl, when I first moved to Mortithev. He’s always been a—” she cut herself off from saying it. Vasi . But the damage was already done, and I was already wincing. “I didn’t know,” she finished softly.

My brows furrowed at that. “We look alike.”

My father and I looked alike in more ways than not. I had my mother’s nose and her eye shape, but everything else about me was my father.

“I can see that now, but I hadn’t noticed it before,” she said, taking another step toward me. “He’s been around me nearly my whole life, to me he’s just Broderick,” I cringed at that. At that name he went by. The name that was his, but not. He’d always gone by Rick, ever since I could form memories. It was what everyone in Rominia called him. I even remembered a time when I heard someone in Rominia call him Broderick, passing by in the street. I was a kid, and I kept walking. Didn’t even realize my father had stopped because I didn’t know that his real name wasn’t Rick.

Sage was speaking again and I forced myself to pay attention, to pull myself from that memory.

“When I met you, he was the furthest thing from my mind. All of Mortithev was. I had to push it out of my head to survive living here. To survive the lie. And even when I went back, when I saw him again, I never made the connection.”

I nodded as my eyes drifted to the ground. Her heart was steady and her eyes never wavered from mine as she spoke. I believed her.

The tea kettle whistled then. A horrible, high-pitched sound that I cringed against. I was thankful when she quickly pulled it from its hook, and the whistle stopped. Even so, my ears rang for a moment after.

I watched her pour two cups of tea, and then she invited me to sit at the kitchen island with her. And finally, I gained the courage to ask what I’d truly come here for.

“Can you tell me about him?” I croaked.

And so she did. She told me that he had been Vasier’s right-hand man, at least until Vasier was angry with him after Evaline’s assassination attempt. She told me that he’d been kind to her, kinder than the rest, and that slammed my heart against my chest.

She told me that she’d always wondered if he’d been a father, because of that. And for a moment, I looked at her. I looked at her and remembered how sad she’d sounded that day, in this very loft. When she’d told Dean and I about Vasier, and what having him as a father had been like.

And for a moment, I was able to see reason. I was able to look through my grief, look past my pain. And see hers. See this woman who’d lived only a couple and a half decades, and almost all of them had been lived in misery.

And I was thankful that even if I couldn’t have my father, she did. I had Kovarrin, and Rasa, and an island full of Kova who were my friends and acquaintances. And the entire kingdom full of people who made me feel like I belonged.

Sage only had herself.

So if I had to suffer without a parent, without a father, a part of me was at least glad that in some small way, he’d been there for her.

That maybe the Gods had a reason for allowing this to happen to him. That maybe the reason was to help Sage get through her time living there. Because she was alone, and I wasn’t.

It didn’t make the loss of my father hurt less, and it didn’t make knowing that he’d lived nearly two centuries as a Vasi, locked away like Maddox had been, any better. But it did make me feel like I could breathe. Like maybe the Gods had a plan. And maybe that plan had been fulfilled, because she was with us now. That maybe the next part of their plan was to give him back to me.

I nodded through it all, and at the end, I met her eyes.

“Can you, please,” I breathed the last word. “Take me back to get him.” There were tears in my eyes, and her own quickly followed, but she only shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Wyott.”

I clenched my eyes shut and a few tears fell down my cheeks. I knew it was the answer I’d get. I knew to expect it. I knew not to get my hopes up.

I knew it wasn’t even fair to ask.

But I couldn’t leave this loft, without trying.

“I wish I could,” she whispered. “I promise you. But I don’t think it’s wise. Gods know what kind of wards they’ve created there, to keep Kova locked in, or me, or how Lauden may have fashioned them to make my portals useless against them.” She took a breath. “Vasier saw you recognize Broderick. He wouldn’t let—”

“Rick,” I corrected.

She pursed her lips and nodded. “Yes, I’m sorry. Rick.”

I was silent, had to let the clump in my throat pass before I could speak, but she reached a hand across the counter and set it on mine.

“That doesn’t mean we don’t have a shot at getting him back. There will be some sort of conflict, a battle, and he’ll be—”

“What?” I interrupted, snapping up to look at her. “He’d be there?” I shook my head. “I would’ve seen him throughout the years during the other wars. Or someone else, some other Kova, would’ve seen him and told me. My father was widely known, and loved, here.”

She swallowed. “You’re right, Vasier and your father never went to the battles, or so I’d heard. I hadn’t known why, but now it seems you’ve found the reason. Vasier couldn’t risk anyone recognizing Rick, because Vasier was obviously gaining information about Kovarrin and Rominia from him.” Her eyes widened then before she looked off to the side. “That must be how Vasier had learned about Rominium in the first place. He wanted it, and when Lauden and I were here, he made me portal back as much as I could to him, without being discovered.”

I straightened. “Vasier has more than just the Rominium chains you all took there when Maddox turned?”

She nodded. “Yes, but not much. In my time here I was only able to get my hands on a few weapons that Lauden stole from Kovarrin’s armory. He tried the training center, but those weapons are so closely monitored.”

“What did he use it for?”

She shook her head. “He never told me. I think he probably just handed them out to a few of the Vasi.”

I was silent. “It’s still possible your father will come fight during this war, that you’ll see him again and we’ll have a chance to save him,” she urged, trying to give me hope. “Vasier wants Evaline, desperately. He won’t let one failed attempt at the ritual stop him. He’s planned for this for centuries. He’s going to find another way. He’ll come for her, and this time I don’t think it’s possible that he stays out of the fray like he has in the past. And if he comes, I don’t see why he wouldn’t bring your father.”

I looked to the ground and thought about what she said. I knew she was right, but I couldn’t find it in me to hope for war, just for the chance to get him back.

It was one thing to feel a low burning jealousy for my brother, for his fortune during my misfortune. It was sick, and I hated it, and I needed it to go.

But it was another to hope for a battle where so, so many would die, just for my father.

That, I couldn’t do. And I was glad. Because at least that meant that my pain wouldn’t turn me into a monster, like it had Vasier.