Page 142 of The Fake Divination Offense
The tautness in my chest doesn’t let up, the knot in the base of my neck doesn’t untangle. I keep running my hands over Bel’s arms, his back, up to his neck and in his hair, like I’m searching for wounds or checking that he’s okay.
He’s okay. He’s all right.
Bel cups my jaw and angles me to look at him; our eyes connect.
“Hi,” he whispers.
I yank him into my arms, hand to the back of his head, holding him against me, feeling him breathe.
“We’re never doing that again,” I tell him.
Bel burrows into me. “No arguments here.” He pushes his face into my pec. “I’m sorry.”
“Sweetheart—”
“I know you didn’t want me to do it at all, and we rushed into it. And if it doesn’t work, if they still target me, I—I don’t know what it’ll mean, but—”
“Bel.” I rock his head back, gazing down at him.
He settles, lips parted, eyes watery.
I swipe my thumbs along his cheeks, clearing the streaked mascara. “I’m so damn proud of you.”
A smile pulls across his mouth. “Yeah?”
“Hell yes. I was about to lose my shit, and you kept your head on, and had us take the chance to stop all of this—you’re amazing.Youdid this.”
He scrunches his nose. “Well, I was noGalaxrien Vossen,” he says, barely a whisper.
We look over to where Seb has an arm curled around thin air. Nick, I’m guessing. Thio leans on Seb’s shoulder, sweaty and winded.
They’ll get the wedding of their fucking dreams after this. They would have anyway, let’s be honest, but now? Whatever they want. Hell,morethan they want. They’re going to be spoiled rotten, I’ll make sure of it.
I nod at Seb.Thank you.
He cracks a smile, and it finally pulls one out of me, too.
Until Aaron clears his throat. “So. Um. What the fuck?”
The weight of what we did hits me.
Bel’s identity is out. To my team; to the world. And I dragged my teammates and manager into this.
I push Bel to the side, slightly behind me, and face Aaron, Marlow, and Darian—where’s—
Roesia is crouched beside Ilbryen, who’s still unconscious.
I shake my head and face my teammates. Who deserve an explanation.So manyexplanations. Security’s getting closer; we probably only have a few seconds before they land on the platform, and cameras are still recording.
“Thank you,” I hear myself say. “Thank you for helping me. Us. I—I can’t explain everything right now, but I will, gladly. Just know that you saved him. Saved—” I look down at Bel. Who grins up at me and nods. “Bel. Not Alexo.”
Darian, who’s still strumming on his guitar, keeping the cultists in stasis, shrugs and smiles. “It was like an extreme training exercise.”
Aaron does the Hellhounds bark, which quickly gets picked up across the stadium, until thousands of people are braying around us.
My eyes tear, because why not at this point. “Thank you. I can’t say it enough.”
Marlow grins. “Always.”
