Page 146 of The Last Guardian

The front door opened in a rush as my gaze fell on Lyra storming inside, followed by our hosts and Dax, stopping the conversation entirely. Lyra’s amber eyes drifted to Dorian’s hand still on mine and returned to what I was sure were my red-rimmed eyes from the tears.

Lyra walked to me as quickly as possible, putting her white hands on my cheeks. “Are you alright?”

My gaze flicked to Dorian, whose hand tightened around mine, his eyes still focused utterly on me—guilt spreading on his soft face. I gave him a soft smile and whispered, “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Dorian muttered, his eyes glinting. At last, Dorian curled his arms around my shoulder, bringing me closer as he kissed the top of my head.

Lyra’s frown deepened, but I shook my head, glancing at Lyra, and said, “I’m fine,” with a look she immediately understood. I’d tell her everything later.

Yet she turned back to Arthur with a warning glare, and he averted his gaze.

For a moment, no one spoke; a heavy silence filled the room, the tension that reigned among some of us.

My gaze fell on Nefeli for a moment. Her large sapphire eyes scrutinized me, and she asked with silent words from afar, “Are you okay?”

I gave her a soft smile, accompanied by a nod, before drifting my gaze to meet Zaid’s for a moment, his eyes already on me.

I looked away.

Dorian spoke at last, his arm still around my shoulders, pinching his nose with his other hand. “I need a freaking strong drink, damn it. Is there a good pub nearby?”

I glanced up at my younger brother—far taller than me now. His brown eyes softened for a moment as they found mine. I knew what he was trying to do. Forget everything with alcohol.

“Alright, I think everyone needs to relax right now,” Dax suggested with a grin, putting his arm around Nef, who rolled her eyes. “We could go to the White Cactus in town.”

“That place smells like shit,” Nefeli replied, shoving his arm away from her. “The Golden Raven is better.”

“Urgh, no way I’m staying in this snob town.” Dax snorted, raising his eyebrows. “That place screams, ‘I’m better than you.’ No, thanks.”

Zaid snorted and said, “Because it’s true.”

“So much for your conceited ass,” Dax replied, looking at Nef and Zaid.

“I don’t care where we go, but I want to get drunk,” Dorian finally declared, gently touching my arm in a kind gesture. “Are you coming?” Dorian’s eyes fell on mine.

“I’m n—” I hesitated for a bit, searching my brother’s eyes, the way they pleaded with me.

Dorian whispered, “Don’t shove me away, sister.” Then he added, his tone angry. “Not ever again.”

LAUGHTER ECHOED IN my ears, mingling with the clinking of glasses and the rich scent of smoke and rum that filled the room.

We had been at the pub for nearly two hours, and Dorian was flirting with a waitress, a beautiful young woman with a tanned complexion and striking blue eyes. It pissed me off that he had left me at the table when he was the one to force me here. I was not in the mood.

My gaze drifted to a window where, outside, Lyra and Arthur were having a heated argument concerning the lies he had kept from everyone. As usual, Dorian tried to drown out the lies with alcohol, Lyra lashed out with her anger, and I built up the walls. The same old dynamic we’d used for five years.

Lyra’s face flushed as she snarled at Arthur. His jaw clenched as he spat something back. She was furious, truly furious—and rightfully so. Even though Arthur and Lyra argued constantly, they genuinely cared for each other deeply, with a bond that not even the weight of a crown could sever.

The people we were going to Myrh with were all sitting around the table. To my right, Bennett and Sam were constantly joking around, betting on whether or not Dorian would ‘bang the chick,’ as they put it. Jekya, the woman I’d met at the training building, wasn’t saying a word, even when Nefeli talked to her.

Dax, leaning against the bench, his large pint in hand, was making sarcastic remarks about the pub to Zaidkiel, who was sitting next to him, directly opposite me. I could feel his gaze on me, yet I couldn’t bring myself to glance at him; the sight of him pierced my stomach. I kept cursing myself for being so stupid and letting my heart be open with him—so reckless of me to believe for one second it wouldn’t be dangerous to tangle with him. I knew he felt the same way—I just didn’t know why he tried to push me away.

My attention remained entirely fixed on my glass, which I hadn’t yet touched, or on the two people fighting outside.

“Alyana,” Nefeli asked softly, taking my hand, “did you hear me?”

My mind drifted back to the present as I glanced up at Nefeli, who looked at me intently. “Hm, no, sorry. What did you say?”

“Are you all right?” she asked. “You’ve hardly said a word since we came in.”