have happened for him to be this upset.
I took his hands in mine. “You know you can tell me anything.”
His dark, almost black, eyes softened. “I know, Gen, and I’ve missed you too.”
I led him over to my boulder, and we both sat. “What’s going on?”
“I wish I knew,” he replied, staring off into the distance.
“What do you mean?”
He sighed and returned his gaze to me. “It’s my father. We think he’s ill, but none of the healers can fix it or even find anything wrong with him.”
I gasped. The king, ill? That wasn’t supposed to be possible. At least, not without the involvement of dark magic. The kind that legends were made of.
“I don’t know what to say.”
He squeezed the hand that was still in his. “Me either. Killian has been in crown prince mode, demanding answers from anyone who will speak to him. Ronan is barely speaking. And, me?” He released a derisive laugh. “I’ve been entertaining everyone to distract them. But it’s not working anymore. Not even on me.”
Tears gathered in my eyes. I hated seeing him like this. “I’m so sorry, Flynn. I wish there was something I could do.”
He gave me a soft smile. “I know. But being here with you is helping.”
His words warmed my heart, and I tried not to read too much into them. Flynn saw me as his sweet little friend. That was it.
I was okay with that...I had to be. Being his—and his brothers’—friend was the only way to remain in their lives. And I would never do anything to jeopardize my place there.
He turned over my hand and slipped his fingers through mine. “You’re the best, you know that?”
“Even though I’m a banshee?”
“Who cares? It’s not like you’re a far darrig.” He shuddered. “They’re just creepy.”
I laughed. “Well, I’m glad you don’t think I’m creepy.”
Flynn lifted the hand not intertwined with mine to my cheek. “Never, Gen. You’re beautiful.”
My heart stuttered to a stop as he leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine.
I awoke with a start and lifted my fingers to my mouth. That dream...it had felt so real. I could have sworn I was actually reliving those precious minutes with Flynn by the loch. Except for the kiss. That part had never happened. Clearly, my overactive imagination had decided to add in that detail.
But Flynn had told me I was beautiful, and I’d eaten up the compliment like the most decadent chocolate mousse. I’d held the moment close, cherishing it...until he’d found me by a hawthorn tree weeks later and decided, on the spot, I was at fault for killing his father.
As always, that memory overshadowed all the rest, and the warm feelings from my dream disappeared in an instant. I tried to sit up but found that I didn’t have the strength. What the heck?
It was then that I realized I wasn’t in my cell. Instead, I was in a bed in the infirmary, my ankles shackled to the frame. Peering from side to side, I breathed out a sigh of relief when I saw that I was alone. The last thing I needed was to face a ghoulish orderly first thing in the morning.
If it was even morning. It was impossible to tell, what with the low lighting that failed to indicate the time one way or the other.
Forcing my distracted thoughts into something resembling focus, I attempted to recall what had happened. I remembered lying on my side, writing on the wall with my finger. After that...nothing.
I wiped at the grit in the corners of my eyes and froze when I felt the evidence of dried tears. There was only one thing that had ever made me cry like that—a lament.
Panic seized me. Was that what had happened? After more than a year, was it even possible?
The more I tried to remember the moments before I’d fallen asleep, the less I saw. My stomach sank. That was a telltale sign of a lament. No amount of effort on my part would bring back the time surrounding a song.
Hearing the distinctive sound of heels clicking on tile, I turned my head and found the doctor walking toward me, a clipboard in hand. Her hips swayed, and she tossed her long, red hair over her shoulder as she gave me a malicious smile.
“You’re finally awake, I see.”
What happened?
As soon as I thought the question, as had become my habit, it occurred to me that I didn’t feel the collar around my neck. I reached up,