What was she saying? Of course, it was.
“We have to go in there, Princess. That’s where the keys are.” He’d explained as much when they left the room, after they’d both showered and changed.
Her lips slanted down, and she shook her head. “No.”
How was it possible that one monosyllabic word, spoken so quietly it was barely more than a breath, could affect him so deeply?
River tugged on his hand, pulling him away from the soldiers. He followed. Of course, he did. He would follow her anywhere.
They stopped a short distance down the corridor, far enough away that even though Williams and Thatcher were still in sight, they were out of earshot.
Nikhail frowned, gazing down at the woman who had become his world. Maybe she didn’t quite understand why this stop was so important. She certainly had enough on her mind.
“We need to sign out the keys to remove the prohiberis,” he patiently explained.
The magic-blocking shackles were infrequently used, and each use had to be cataloged. Some were kept in military safe houses across the Republic, along with the keys to remove them, but those were few and far between.
On the day of the storm, Nikhail had hurriedly filled out preliminary paperwork before grabbing an emergency pair of cuffs from the back of a military van. There’d been even more documentation he’d had to tackle when they arrived at the Hub. Today, there would be even more forms to fill out, but he didn’t care about that. He refused to allow bureaucratic nonsense to stand in the way of freeing River’s magic.
Her eyes widened, and gods help him, why were they lined with tears? What was happening?
“We don’t need the keys, Nik,” she said.
“Yes, we do.”
Her bottom lip wobbled. The sight was a knife to Nikhail’s heart. “No, we don’t. Even if you had them, it wouldn’t matter.”
Nikhail’s stomach contorted. “What are you saying?”
She raised a trembling hand, pushing back the sleeve of her oversized dark purple sweater. The prohiberis was a stark contrast against her pale skin, and she traced the shackle, shuddering.
“I know you mean well, and I appreciate everything you’ve done, but…”
Her voice trailed off.
“But what?”
“But I can’t take them off,” she whispered.
A punch to the gut would’ve hurt less than that awful declaration.
Nikhail’s lungs seized. For the longest moment, all he could do was stare at River, trying to wrap his mind around what she’d just said.
“I’m sorry, my hearing must be slipping, because I thought you just said you couldn’t remove the manacles.” The last words came out sharper than Nikhail had intended, but he couldn’t help it.
Because this… how could she suggest such a thing?
“I did,” she said quietly. “I can’t do this.”
Her name slipped past his lips in a desperate whisper.
“I told you, Nik. Iwarnedyou about who I am. What I can do.” Brokenness and pain layered her words, and it felt like Nikhail’s heart was being ripped out of his chest. “I am dangerous, and you shouldn’t trust me.”
This time, he couldn’t tamp down the grumble of discontent rising in his chest. He was sure the soldiers heard it, but he didn’t care.
“You’re not dangerous,” he argued.
He hated that River perceived herself this way, that she believed this was true.