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This sounds horrific on every level. Olivia, being Le Fay, is likely the only person able to help me break this curse. Leaving her is not an option. But I will never allow another man to touch her. Nor will I watch her die.
I scowl. “How would breaking our bond help her?”
“If you separate, she will no longer need your vitality to live. She would come into her power naturally in a year or two. Well, if she survives the mate breaking.”
“If she survives?”
“Some don’t. It’s traumatic. Normally with a bond this new, the impact of breaking it would be minimal. Yours hasn’t been fully formed, but Olivia is very weak…”
So a near-certain death unless we discover the key to unlock my curse…or a probable death with a life rife with pain and loss should she manage to survive.
Once again, fucking magic has me in an untenable conundrum.
Unless…
I glare the wizard’s way. “Did you, perchance, manipulate me to obtain that book you want so bloody bad?”
“You called me. Why the hell would you think I cursed her into some ‘illness’ so I could take it? How could I have known you would magically mate? I occasionally see the future, but you’re giving me far too much credit. Besides, how would Olivia’s ailment get me any closer to the Doomsday Diary?”
’Tis right, he is, and I am grasping at straws. Much as I wish I could blame the cur, the fault is mine. I fucked up.
Before I can tell him thus, a little pop and a puff of white smoke appears. Moments later, a bird circles, whispering in Bram’s ear.
In the next instant, he blanches and bounds for the door. “I must go.”
I follow him down the hall, grabbing his arm. “But—”
“Later.” He shakes me off. “The MacKinnetts were attacked last night. It looks like the work of the Anarki. If that’s the case, my vision has come true. Mathias is back.”
* * *
Bram
That afternoon, I return to Marrok’s cottage in the Creepified Forest. I knock and wait long minutes.
Finally, he pries open the door, cradling Olivia’s limp body against his chest, still covered only by his bedsheet. With the press of his strong hands, he tries to still her, but she writhes restlessly, wrapping her legs around him. She laps her tongue up his neck. The man’s entire body is stiff.
“How is she?” But I already know. It’s not good.
“Stable, now that your aunt removed the stone from her wrist.”
“Need you. Inside me,” Olivia moans, nipping at Marrok’s ear.
“Shh.” He strokes her back. “She sleeps mostly. But when she is awake…”
His grimace tells me she’s demanding and insistent.
The Olivia I know would be mortified. But after today’s horrific events, I cannot spare a smile. And Marrok might hate magic and everything Le Fay, but the way he cradles his mate, it’s obvious he’s not immune to their bond.
“Sit.” Marrok steps back to admit me. “You look as if you have been to hell.”
I probably do. No doubt my hair is askew. My face is likely smudged with dirt and caked with sweat. I don’t care. The sightless eyes of the magical men and women I stared into half the morning, slaughtered needlessly and viciously by the Anarki, haunt me. The missing children disturb me. The fate Auropha MacKinnett may still be suffering twists my gut.
“I have. And it will spread.” I fall into the nearest chair and lower my head into my hands. “Mathias is definitely back.”
Marrok follows, folding his warrior’s body on the sofa and cradling Olivia in his lap. She falls limp against him.
To say more now would merely mean reliving the horror, and Marrok already has his hands full—literally. Besides, I’ll have plenty of time to share the gruesome savagery when I present this development to the Council. “We’re looking for the Anarki hideout in my vision and hope to save Auropha and anyone else they may have captured, but it’s been hours.”
