The Songbird and the Wolf

[ XXXII ] Break Away What's Left

The words are a catalyst, they electrify him. 

Like something had been kindling in the depths of him, and those simple words had thrown a spark among the timbers. 

The Wolf is a howling, snarling thing in the pit of him. 

And it takes every ounce of his self-restraint not to throw himself at the cell wall until either the bars broke or he did.

A thousand questions are a blur through his head, a dizzying mix that matches the thunder of the heart in his chest.

That same self-restraint doesn't do much to keep his voice calm, it edges closer to a growl than he cares to admit. 

"What do we do?" 

Even Quinn finds his own demand laughable, the use of we sounds cruel to his very own ears. 

But Astor's response isn't incredulous, it isn't cruel. But it is laced with something Quinn hates far, far more. 

"If Court Draco are already here, it's already too late," the defeat in Astor's voice is the crash of waves against the shore. Something that threatens to drag all three of them beneath the surface of the water. 

"This has been over before we even left Court Aquila," the way Astor finishes that sentence makes Quinn think there are words the fae leaves unsaid. 

The strangled sound restraining them before Astor says something he'd regret. 

It was an answer, a truthful one.

But it wasn't one a bone in Quinn's body was wanting to least of all willing to accept. 

His companions are speaking in whispers, afraid a passing guard might catch a slither of their conversation. 

But Quinn can hear each word as clearly as if they were speaking right beside him, even without his attuned senses.

Each word drills deeper through his skull.

"Court Corvus could have killed us in that wretched field, they could have killed us the moment we passed through those gates," Maia's voice is very nearly a tremble. "Yet we're here, for what? Pretty ornaments?" 

"Why drag us all the way here, if it was over from the moment we left Court Aquila, why drag it out like this?"

Like she's already picturing the burial site, the grave, the headstone.

The grief laces her tone already, but she tries to convince Astor its worth the battle anyway.

"Or they're readying for a public execution," if Quinn was trying his best to keep the snarl from his voice, Astor has no such hesitancies.  "Put an end to Court Aquila in the most public setting possible, quash any possibilities of revenge, of hope?" 

Quinn can't quite see Maia from this angle, her body is swathed in shadows. 

But he can feel the flinch that Astor's words cause here, but he isn't done there. 

"We saw it with Court Leo," Astor's whisper is the cloud behind the silver lining. His own guilt a drowning force. 

The silence ricochets through Quinn's bones. Echoes through the depths of him.

"And they've kept us alive out of the kindness of their hearts?" Maia's retort is sharper than she means it to sound, harsher. "Decided to leave two of the biggest threats to whatever they intend to do with the reigning Queen of Court Aquila alive, for what? They're a bit bored?"

Quinn can taste the fact she's trying to convince herself on the air. 

He clings to the smell of it, the hope of it.