Saxony didn’t follow, but leaned against a nearby wall and looked down at him with guarded eyes. Tavia wasn’t sure if they were guarding against Wesley, or against anyone else who might try to come inside the room. Or even Saxony’s amja and Bastian, who stood by the door like they were wary of stepping not only closer to Wesley but closer to Saxony.

I’m really not interested in your family drama, Wesley had said to Saxony all those months ago, when he’d first recruited her to help take Ashwood down and she’d asked for him to save her sister in return. It was ironic to think about that now.

Wesley stirred and Tavia inched her body a little closer to his, so that when he opened his eyes, he saw her before he saw the puzzle of a lost family.

He shifted a little and then his eyes fluttered open.

“Good dream?” Tavia asked.

Wesley frowned and looked around the room.

“It’s weird to watch people sleep,” he said.

“It’s weird that you’re related to my best friend,” she countered.

Wesley shuffled upward. “Everyone needs to stop looking at me like I’m a time bomb.”

“It’s probably just a habit,” Tavia said. “You’re kind of a wildfire on the best of days.”

“What did you dream about?” Saxony asked.

“My mother.”

His mother.

Not Saxony’s.

He didn’t seem quite ready to put the two together and Tavia couldn’t blame him. Mothers were complicated, especially when they weren’t around anymore. She knew the pain of losing her parents, but the pain of never knowing them at all was different, and she couldn’t imagine the confusion Wesley must have felt knowing those missing parts of his life couldn’t be replaced.

“She said I was powerful enough to be in charge of my own future and that my magic was special.”

“And yet I knocked you out,” Tavia said. “Win for me.”

Wesley shot her a look that told her he’d very much like it if she never brought that up again.

“How are you feeling?” Tavia asked.

“Fine.”

“I sent you to sleep because you looked like you were about to lose control of your magic,” she said. “Are you in control now?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Promise?” Tavia held her palm out for a handshake.

Wesley didn’t take it, but he nodded. “I promise.”

Tavia eyed him with suspicion. “If I turn my back, you’re not going to shoot my best friend?”

“Why, did you forget to take my gun away?”

She hadn’t forgotten and Tavia knew that Wesley could surely already feel the cold absence of the bone gun against his hip.

“Can you forgive us?” Saxony’s amja asked. “Can you still fight by our side in this war?”