Page 47 of Escape from the Green

Two weeks and three days.

Green time.

As for human time, I wasn't sure. A few months, probably.

She had likely just gotten her life going, just found a reason to smile, the occasion to breathe freely.

And here we were coming to tell her she wasn't safe. That her desire to see her brother was what would do her in.

I hated to do that to her, to rip her hopes and dreams away from her.

But, I figured, it was better it be me than Cass and his evil army, better it be us than them, taking her to the Dark Court only to bait her brother and his woman out of seclusion.

Jasper was useless to Cass.

He had some skills, but nothing strong enough even to drain him for.

Expendable.

That was what he would be.

A pawn to use to get his daughter to obey, to spare her love beatings and torture.

And once she was brainwashed enough, he could slit his throat and be done with him.

And Amethyst?

She would be crushed.

She would be weighted down with guilt for the rest of her life.

For being a pawn in a game she had no skills at.

For being young and beautiful enough to be used to make gains.

For being born at all.

"Before the sun even gets full in the sky," he promised, waving up above us, making me aware of the melting again, something that had completely escaped me even though, ahead of us, Smoky had rolled up her shirtsleeves, had tied up her hair.

"Judging by this," he said, waving a hand at the rapidly melting snow around us, "summer should be in full swing in the human realm. You're the only one of us who won't stick out," he added, jerking his chin to the shirt Amy had bought me.

"I am hoping we won't have to be there long," I said, reaching for the note in my pocket. "But the only day when I know where she will be is on..." I scanned the note. "Every Sunday."

If she would even be there.

If she didn't get bored of being there every weekend, wasting her freedom

If she didn't get a job, friends, a boyfriend who that would distract her from her promise.

That last one, yeah, it sent a swirling pit of jealousy through my system. I had no right, of course, to feel that way. I had no claim to her. She had no loyalty to me. She was free to meet men, spend time with them, kiss them, fall for them.

And I had no right to be put off by that.

Just because I thought highly of her, because I owed her my freedom, because we'd shared a kiss. A single kiss. I had shared more than that with women whose names I no longer remembered.

I should have been happy for her, happy that she had a chance to build something for herself, that she got to choose who put their hands on her.

My eyes moved down the note, finding myself almost smiling at the dainty, perfect script.