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“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Bram turns away and strides down the hall toward his quarters.
With a hand at the small of my back, Marrok leads me to our room. Despite his shirt damp with sweat and the wet hair plastered to his head, I’m tempted to lean into him. I’m drawn in by his manly, earthy scent. By the veins standing out in his massive hands and forearms. By the weary satisfaction of a job well done. By the man himself.
How much will I suffer when he breaks his curse and dies, leaving me alone? After seeing Lucan, I’m afraid.
When we push the door to our room wide, pandemonium awaits. Our clothes are scattered and ripped to shreds. Drawers hang limp from the nightstand and dresser. Chairs are overturned. Blankets and sheets are puddled at the end of the bed, the mattress hacked into. The ticking is scattered in a white dusting everywhere. And the window had been thrown open, allowing a brisk breeze to whip in.
Marrok takes in the destruction. “Did you have a fit of anger?”
The room’s only mirror is shattered, but I don’t need to see it to know incredulity is etched on my face. “No.”
“Someone has been here, searching for the book!” He slides into the carpet and gropes under the bed.
His look of relief says it all.
“Your carving is still holding the book in place?”
“Aye.” As soon as I undo my simple cloaking spell, he pries the hunk of wood free and clutches the diary. “Whoever came destroyed our things but did not steal what we must protect.”
“Thank God.” I close my eyes and focus on a lingering presence. “Someone was here not long ago. They came and left through the open window.”
“What happened?” Bram barges in. “I heard Olivia gasp and— What the fuck?”
Marrok fills Bram in as he approaches the window slowly and looks down. “’Tis too far to fall to survive.”
“For most magical people, that’s a hop.”
“Fuck.” Frustration and fury resonate in Marrok’s voice.
“What he said,” I huff as I begin righting the room.
As Marrok joins in, I try to block out the sense of being hunted, of having my space violated yet again. But the reality is, Mathias is coming hard and fast for me. For the first time I’m truly afraid there’ll be no outrunning the bastard.
“Stop, you two. I got it.” With a wave of Bram’s hand, he rights the clothes and knickknacks.
I appreciate him saving us the trouble. I haven’t done much all day, and despite being terrified, I’m exhausted. “Thanks.”
He nods. “No problem.”
I sink into the nearby chair and skim the magical spell book Sabelle loaned me. I locate a simple repair spell, which patches up the mattress. The seams are a bit jagged, but I cover them with the sheets and blankets, trying to push down my anxiety.
If Marrok sees it, he’ll only worry. As it is, he’s watching me, arms crossed, with an unrelenting stare.
“The number of people capable of doing this is incredibly finite,” Bram says. “It must be someone Sabelle or I invited to enter the grounds very recently, because none of my protections have been breached.”
“Obviously, it cannot be Lucan,” Marrok points out. “Nor ’tis Caden, Ice, or Duke. All have been training.”
Now I know where he’s going. “You think my father did this.”
“He was here earlier tonight, and we do not know if he left the manor’s grounds, only that he left our sight.”
“The same could be said of Shock—and his escaped brother! What if Lucan is right, and Shock is Mathias’s spy?”
“Either way, you must be cautious. Certainly, you see how desperate Mathias is to reach you and the diary.”
Yeah, it’s like a big neon sign. God, what could possibly happen next?
Chapter Fifty
