The Prison Healer

I told them where they can find me, if they want. That I’ll be in Vallenia. With you.

She was free.

I l-l-love you, K-Kiva,

Get outta ’ere, Kiva luv,” Mot said, his gaze softening as he looked her way, then settled on Tipp in her arms. “Give ’im a good life, yeah? Yeh both deserve to find ’appiness.”

Fine, I’ll stop,” she agreed. “But only because I wouldn’t want you to throw me in prison.” She tapped a finger to her lip. “Oh, wait.”

the most important thing is that you’re free, even if it means she is, too.” Jaren’s thumb stroked her shoulder. “We’ll deal with the consequences later.”

“I don’t know if you have anyone out there waiting for you. Either of you. But I was thinking—I mean, I was hoping—” He stopped and tried again. “If you want to, I would really love to show you Vallenia. Both you and Tipp.

Please,” he rasped out. “Don’t look at me like that. Don’t look at me like I’m broken.”

I hate the name Deverick. I always have. My middle name is Jaren—that’s what my friends and family call me.” Pointedly, he said, “That’s what you call me, too.”

If you weren’t getting information,” Kiva croaked out, “and you were never a real prisoner, then why didn’t you just leave?”

His blue-gold gaze locked on hers. “Because I found a reason to stay.”