Chapter 344. What Ifs I

Chapter 344: 344. What Ifs I

Maisie

Pulling Quinlan’s scent apart from the antiseptics, I found his door down the VIP floor and when I turned the knob, it gave easily.

I startled, finding Jericho’s amber gaze on me as I wandered in. He was sitting, hands braced on his knees. He had a spike in his arm, his blood flowing through the tube connected to Quinlan.

He looked worried, and it made my heart squeeze. You wouldn’t have guessed from how much they fought over everything that they cared about each other.

"You should be resting," he said, but held his arms open. "Come here."

I went to him, and he wrapped his arms around my middle, pulling me up to sit in his lap. He dwarfed me by, at least, two feet, but it was comforting as his chin rested on the top of my head and he tucked me into him.

Together, we watched Quinlan.

His breathing was slow, and I could hear his heart beat even slower. His color was pallid, even the shine to his golden head was gone, like I’d sucked the life out of him.

I swallowed, thinking he looked like a corpse.

"He’ll be fine, malyshka," Jericho said, scenting my incoming tears. When I sniffled, he pinched my chin, tilting my head away from Quinlan towards him instead, and he pulled my lip out from where I’d wedged it between my teeth in worry. "You’ve been crying."

I glanced down, unable to hold his gaze as my eyes warmed. "This is all my fault. Quinlan being like this. I shouldn’t have marked him... and Mercer... I... I cant..." The words choked off on a silent sob. "Why does everything have to be so difficult?"

"Most things worth having are," he said, tucking my hair behind my ear. "My mama used to say you don’t know how deep happiness can go until you’ve sat with the sadness. Or how much love can hold until you’ve felt what it’s like to lose it. You only recognize both because you’ve known the absence of them. Difficulty and ease are subjective to each individual."

I dropped my head against his shoulder, my eyes falling shut. "You don’t think we’ve had enough yet?"

Hating the glum atmosphere and the tears on the verge of falling again as I watched Quinlan’s faint breathing, while thinking about Mercer, I tried for a lighter note. "I think I’ve been hexed with bad luck or something."

Jericho’s didn’t laugh, but his fingers burrowed into my hair and I stifled a sigh when his fingers threaded lightly along my scalp. "You must stop carrying everything on your shoulders," he continued, his voice thick with emotion. "You are not hexed. Or cursed. Truth is, it’s never been simple with any of us, malyshka. Each of our paths have brambles and thorns. You do not plague us with whatever blight you think you have. We knew it long before we claimed you as ours that it would be difficult. We may not have known how much, how deep, but if we were to go back to those days in particular when we chased you through the woods and claimed you, or our mating ceremony, there’s nothing we would do differently."

I withdrew my head from his shoulder to look at him, at a loss of words.

His eyes crinkled as he caressed my cheek. "You are trouble, malyshka. Our favourite kind." A second passed and he added, "Mercer included."

My face fell again, and Jericho jiggled me in his thigh like I was a child, forcing my attention back to him.

"You must know that I’ve known him for a long time, and he’s right about the most selfish prick I know." I paused at the barb, but Jericho added, "This is the first selfless thing he’s done in his life. You’ve made an honest man out of him."

"I don’t want it," I said bitterly. "I don’t want any of it. I don’t want this brand of honesty. I don’t want him with her. He’s mine."

I thought I was whining like a child who had lost her favourite toy, and I wiped at my face furiously when tears welled in them.

"Then go claim him as yours," Jericho deadpanned.

I stared at him blankly. "What? How does... I don’t... He thinks he must do this to protect me. All of us. I’ve tried to talk him out of it. I’ve begged. I’ve done everything. If he didn’t listen to me before, he’s definitely not going to now. Not after the attack." I swallowed back the painful lump in my throat. "He’s already agreed to it. He’s going to marry her in two weeks, Jericho."

Jericho’s thumb kept moving slowly against my cheek. "Mercer made a deal with the Lysandra. You didn’t."

"It doesn’t matter--"

"It does." His voice stayed calm. "The agreement is his. Not yours. You’ve marked the rest of us. You haven’t marked him. That’s the only reason this is still possible for her. She knows it. He knows it. We’ve been waiting for you to see it."

The problem was, I had. I had tried to mark him with that thought in mind, too. I’d mulled over it a hundred times and wished I’d just done it. But after the attack today, I knew I couldn’t do it.

"It’s not just that. Look at Quinlan." I swallowed a cry. "Look what I did to him. Every time I open a rift, I hurt the people I love. If I claim Mercer, if I bind him to me forever, I’ll kill him, Jericho. I’ll kill him just like I nearly killed Quinn."

Jericho was right. I was trouble. It followed me everywhere. It was attached to me at the hip. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to touch Quinlan without fear again.

Jericho’s hand slid down to cup the back of my neck, his thumb pressing firmly against my pulse point. "He is doing this because he thinks it is the only way to protect you. We are all trying to find a way out for him, but no matter what we do, the Queen expects it.

"She has prepared for it. Our spies have gone dark and the recent private executions have made the court scared of bringing topic of treason against her. Witnessing your death through the bond won’t stand as evidence in front of the court that Tessa tried to kill you and the Queen ordered it to happen. We’d be dismissed as incapable of having sane deductions, as we’ve all been marked by you, and therefore, compromised."