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Delara nearly kicked my ass—and well deserving. I gave credit when it was due, and she was one hell of a grappler. Shit, she’d landed me on my ass twice before I’d had enough and had her yelling mercy.
I jogged up the stairs and into the kitchen to grab a drink, sweat running down my chest and across my brow.
I stopped.
My feet became thousand-pound lead weights, as my eyes took in everyone standing in the adjoining living room. My eyes narrowed and heart skipped a beat. What the hell was going on?
Delara came up behind me. I didn’t need to see her face to know something shitty was about to happen and it wasn’t just a meeting between Waleron and Delara.
“What the hell is this?” I ground out.
I tried to enter their minds, but every single one of them was vaulted shut. I looked over my shoulder at Delara, but she stepped back and refused to say anything.
A billow of mist appeared by the doorway into the living room from the foyer and my hands curled into fists. Great—Waleron.
I was not a fan of their coldhearted Taldeburu, and I sure as fuck hated when he morphed into a room. The Taldeburu was as merciless as they came. He protected the Scars with a steel glove and didn’t take crap from anyone.
Waleron’s good points—no bullshit, and his loyalty to the Scars was unmatched.
Waleron was six foot three, kept his head shaved, and had ice-blue eyes, which on occasion had been known to look almost white when he was pissed—although he rarely lost his cool. He had one hell of a snake tattoo. His Ink came up from under his black T-shirt to his neck and curled behind his left ear.
As far as I knew, Waleron’s Ink hadn’t been released since the day he escaped from that bitch Lilac’s lair. It wasn’t exactly known what happened, only that Waleron and his Scar went insane with fury. When he returned, he was cool and calm like always, as if he hadn’t been tortured and held captive for sixty-one years. Except it was a different calmness, more like a silence of emotion.
His ice-blue eyes turned to me, and they weren’t happy. “You went back to the compound when I specifically said it was off-limits until we assessed the situation.”
“She needed out.” I glanced at his Ink. It remained still, but its eyes glowed red. Fuck, yeah, he was pissed.
“Yes, but we needed to find out what they were doing there and you went and blew everything up.”
I strode to the doorway and into the living room. “He was fuckin’ abusing her.” My voice was harsh and low as the fury boiled. “It was three weeks. Wasn’t waiting any longer.”
The room was silent as Waleron and I faced off. No one was stupid enough to interrupt either of us. “The girl,” Waleron said. I stiffened. “Keir informed me of her condition, and we’ve decided she’ll go to a rehab center.”
“What the fuck? You decided? You and he decided?” Every muscle contracted as his words hit me. “Over my dead body.” My glare shifted from Waleron to Keir, Jedrik, Hack, and then over my shoulder to Delara. They all avoided looking directly at me. They knew. They all fuckin’ knew this was going down. There was no discussion—it had been decided without me.
“I got her out. You sat on your fuckin’ asses while she was being abused. No. You’ll have to go through me first.” I managed two strides toward the basement stairs when Waleron approached, his hand latching onto my arm.
“Kilter, let it go,” Waleron warned in a bitter tone.
“Fuck you.” I jerked my arm free.
The heat in my eyes burned as my rage pulsed.
“Kilter, man, she needs help,” Jedrik said.
My gaze swung to Jedrik sitting on the edge of the leather couch, his forearms resting on his thighs, hands clasped between them. My eyes shot to the antique vase sitting on the table behind his head and, with my ability, I smashed it into tiny fragments.
Screw control, this was exactly why I never trusted anyone. They went behind my back and did what they thought was best. No consulting. No discussion. Nothing.
She was not being locked away. Fuck that. I swore to her. I asked her to trust me, damn it.
It was betrayal laced with mistrust. She’d never forgive me. I knew what it was like to lose faith in someone’s words, and I wouldn’t do that to her. I fuckin’ wouldn’t.
I managed two more steps toward the stairs before my body froze, and not by choice. Paralysis. “Let me go, you coldhearted bastard.”
A low murmur of voices shifted through the room and I felt the energy around each of the Scars rise. Keir moved forward and nodded to Waleron. I knew they were speaking telepathically while blocking me.
“You have fuckin’ shit to say, say it,” I said.
