Chapter Text
Imogen remained on the couch, though she no longer felt like she needed to be there. The pillows propping her up were Garrick’s and Xaden’s doing, a compromise so they’d finally leave her be. Her body still ached, but she was far from the weakened state that had initially kept her confined to rest. Now, she was mostly staying put to avoid an argument.
Unfortunately, that meant she was at Liam’s mercy.
He sat cross-legged on the floor beside the couch, talking without pause.
“She’s going to be a rider, I know it,” he said, practically beaming at the thought. “She’s sharp and stubborn, way tougher than she looks. If I can make it through Basgiath, she’ll have no trouble at all.”
Imogen forced a small smile, though her chest tightened at his words. She envied the unwavering certainty in his voice, the pure, unshaken belief in his sister’s future. He had so much love for Sloane, so much hope. She swallowed against the bitter reminder that her own sister, Katrina, hadn’t been so lucky.
The memory of Katrina surfaced like a blade cutting through her thoughts. Katrina, who had been everything. Katrina, who had held her hand the night before the revolution turned to slaughter. Katrina, whose screams had been drowned by dragon fire.
Imogen swallowed, forcing herself to focus on Liam’s voice instead of the sharp pang in her chest.
“You’d like her,” Liam continued, oblivious to the storm raging inside Imogen’s head. “She’s got this way of looking at you like she already knows your worst secrets, but she won’t judge you for them. And she never gives up—just like you.”
Imogen scoffed, shaking her head. “I give up all the time, Liam.”
“No, you don’t.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You get knocked down. That’s different.”
She didn’t have the energy to argue with him, so she just rolled her eyes, which only made him smirk.
A beat of silence passed before Liam’s expression turned more calculating. “So… you and Garrick.”
Imogen groaned.
Liam grinned, entirely unbothered by her exasperation. “You like him.”
“We’re friends.”
Liam gave her a skeptical look. “You like him.”
Imogen narrowed her eyes. “I do like him. As a friend.”
“You should tell him,” Liam pressed. “You know, if it’s more than that.”
She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “There’s nothing to tell.”
Liam hummed, unconvinced. “Right. He’s just risking life and limb to make sure you don’t bleed out because of, what, friendly concern?”
Imogen shot him a glare, but he only grinned wider.
“Look, I’m just saying,” he continued, “if there’s something there, maybe don’t wait until it’s too late to figure it out.”
Imogen exhaled sharply. “You talk too much.”
“And you avoid things that make you feel too much.”
She had no retort to that, so she simply crossed her arms and scowled at him, which only made his amusement grow.
Liam shifted topics then, as if sensing he’d pushed enough. “Xaden asked about you, you know.”
She tilted her head. “About me?”
“Well, mostly about if you were resting or still being stubborn.”
She snorted. “I bet that was an interesting conversation.”
Liam grinned. “He’s hard on people, but he’s fair. And he cares a lot more than he lets on.”
Imogen nodded, already knowing that. Xaden might act like an unyielding force of nature, but he wasn’t heartless. He just couldn’t afford to be anything else.
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Xaden sat on the worn couch, elbows resting on his knees, eyes locked on the grain of the wooden floor. Liam sat across from him, fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve, while Imogen and Garrick perched on the edge of their seats, waiting for someone to speak.
"They don’t bother us much," Xaden finally said, voice low but firm. "Long as we don’t bring trouble to the door, we’re free to do what we want. They aren’t looking to be parents, but they aren’t cruel either."
Liam nodded. "They just... exist. We exist. That’s the deal."
Garrick exhaled sharply. "So, we’re just supposed to keep our heads down and be grateful?"
"Better than some of the alternatives," Imogen muttered. They had seen the alternatives.
Xaden looked at her, gauging her expression before continuing. "They take the stipend and let us be. No curfews, no questions, just don’t screw up their arrangement. If we pitch you two staying, it has to be on their terms."
Liam straightened, eager to be helpful. "Which means making them think it’s easy. No extra work, no added risk. Just a bigger stipend for the same deal."
Imogen crossed her arms, skepticism evident in her posture. "And what happens if they say no?"
Xaden met her eyes without hesitation. "Then we find another way. But we start here."
"So how do we sell it?" Garrick finally asked, rolling his shoulders back as if preparing for battle.
Xaden leaned forward, strategy already forming in his mind. "We tell them it’s just two more people blending into the background. No trouble, no noise, just two more mouths at the table. We make it clear that nothing changes for them, except the money. If they push, we give them reassurances."
Liam hesitated before adding, "And if they push harder?"
Xaden’s jaw tightened. "They won’t. Because I won’t let them."
The weight of his words settled over them, thick and undeniable. He wasn't just talking about persuasion. He was making a promise. A threat, if necessary.
Imogen lifted her chin, strength flickering back into her expression. "I don’t need you to fight my battles for me."
Xaden's gaze was steady, unyielding. "I know. But I’m not letting either of you be thrown out just because some people can’t see past their own convenience."
Garrick scoffed, but there was no real malice in it. "So we’re a convenience now?"
"That’s exactly what we need them to think." Xaden tilted his head slightly. "Because if they see you as a problem, it’s over before we even start."
Imogen pushed off the chair and stood, eyes flashing. "I don’t like playing weak. I don’t like pretending I don’t take up space."
"Then don’t," Xaden countered. "But play smart. They don’t care about us—any of us. They care about what’s easy. So we make it easy.