““ Our father?” Dylan’s lips twisted. “That’s what she said.” “So, everybody’s accounted for,” Caleb said slowly. “Everything’s all right.” “Not everyone,” Dylan said. “Not Conn.” “He’s off my turf. Out of my jurisdiction.” “And it doesn’t bother you he left without telling us.” “He’s selkie. That’s what selkies do.” Dylan lifted a brow. “Still sore about our mother, little brother?” Caleb’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t about our mother.” “The prince thinks otherwise. If the prophecy is true—” “If... he gave a shit about the prophecy, he would have stuck around.” “Unless he couldn’t,” Dylan said. “I would know if the demons broke through my wards. But something must have happened to call Conn back to Sanctuary.” The bad coffee feeling came back to burn in his gut. “That’s his problem,” Caleb said grimly. Dylan’s flat, black gaze met his. “Until it becomes ours.” The boat flew before the wind, rising and falling with the waves, its sails nearly at right angles to the hull, wing on wing.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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