The Sentinels Too much sauce

Skellige needn't have launched into such a fierce and long-winded soliloquy, as nearly the instant he opened his mouth, Larkspur quailed. The electric spark within her snuffed out and she dropped into a crouch at Deirdre's feet. Her ears slicked fully backward as the Leviathan put her on the rack and lashed her. Spur knew he was right, that she and her father were at fault too, and she already blamed herself. But it didn't stop her from loathing him for hurting her beloved daddy and then deceiving her so abhorrently. She couldn't help if that made her unreasonable. She loved her family to a fault.

The two women both sprang to her defense against his barbed tongue, urging Skellige to leave her alone for now. Spur's heart lodged in her throat. The witch herself obviously cared for this man and even the nameless guard only meant to postpone the inevitable. A breathless fear swept through the golden youth. Although she loved Deirdre no less and had spoken genuinely about joining her in Donnelaith mere moments ago, Spur knew she must get away from this place. The painful truth of the matter was that in order to rid herself of Skellige, she must also leave behind her best friend.

She was tempted to do what she did best: run away. And she would. But Larkspur, for once, managed to deny her instinct to flee. She knew now was not the right moment. Although Deirdre was moving away with the Leviathan, there was still the guard. She gave the woman a quick glance, then backed into the hollow tree and fell to the floor. She was exhausted. But she would not sleep. She would wait for the perfect moment to slip away, returning to Marauder's Keep, back into the arms of her family.