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Kai laughed this time, loudly enough that he startled a few birds out of the treetops.
"Rude," I told Verena. "Me and my various mental disorders are very offended."
Our smiles lasted as long as it took Wyn to unlock his shields and open the doors, leading us down a high-ceilinged, airy hallway and into a living room where a six-foot tall woman with golden waves of hair and glowing eyes waited by the fireplace.
CHAPTER 20
"Come in," the glow-eyed beckoned with a smile, sweeping a tanned, elegant hand at us.
My breathing cut off in my chest, hairs standing on end along my arms. For a split second I just stared at the woman, stunned still.
Kai reacted instantly, his snakes lashing through the air, and the vibration snapped me out of my stupor. I wrenched on my magic until crimson glowed from my forearm and stomach, and with hasty movements I drew my single volcanic dagger and advanced on the woman.
We all paused when Wynvail jerked forward a step, Verena shielded behind him, and blurted, "Phoebe?"
He knew her? My power flared brighter, jealousy paralysing me until territorialism took its place and gifted my movement back. Kill first, ask questions later. I darted around Kai and launched myself at the woman perching far too casually in the beige wingback chair beside the fire. Our chair. Our fire.
There was a god, titan, something in our fucking safe house. A threat.
"Do you know," she asked mildly, "in every possible future, you attempt to kill me right now?" She smiled, even as I drove the point of my dagger at her chest, ruby light pouring down the blade until it glowed vividly.
White magic knocked the tip away before it could pierce her. A sound of frustration rattled my throat, so close to a growl as reverberation shuddered up my wrist. I twisted to glare at Wynvail, fingers clenched white around my knife, and rage filling me so powerfully that Em's chest rumbled with a warning and even Wane scowled, shadows writhing around him to back me up.
"And in every future, he stops you," Phoebe added with a deeper smile. She didn’t budge from our chair, completely unruffled with her perfect butter-yellow dress and Stepford-wife hair. Another shudder went down my spine and I retreated three steps.
"She's not a danger to us," Wynvail told the guys and Verena, stalking across the plush rug to me. I spared a single second to look away from the threat, and found a strange gleam in his eyes, almost like Wyn was … thrilled?
My heart pumped quicker, warning bleating at all my instincts.
"She's also the woman who helped me save your life, Haley. She told me we'd lose you, and we'd need a pearl to bring you back. She's the only reason we still have you, so maybe don't kill her?"
I scowled, unable to let go of my primal violence.
Wynvail smirked and moved into my personal space, his hand sliding across my back. "I can't deny that a part of me is delighted by your show of jealousy. Would you really kill a woman simply because I knew her name?"
"No," I growled.
Yes.
His smirk deepened, a tooth poking free, and he slid his hand up my back, stroking the edge of my wing until I shuddered. "Liar."
"They're going to kiss," Phoebe whispered. "Should we leave?"
"Ugh, thanks for the head's up," Verena muttered.
Wyn's hand continued until he gripped the back of my neck. "You were going to slit her throat just for looking at me."
I scowled. He had my full attention. "You're mine."
"Yes, I am," he agreed, and dug his fingers into my nape, slamming his mouth into mine until I moaned. He dragged my body against his, his cock pressing insistently against my hip—but I wasn't crazy enough to ride him with a threat in our house. Still, I trusted the rest of our family to handle Phoebe, whoever the fuck Phoebe was, while Wynvail kissed me.
Heat pulsed between my thighs as his rough tongue dominated mine, not letting me take control for even a second. Every stroke and suck short-circuited my brain until my jealousy mellowed to satisfaction. I was still territorial when he drew back, but he was mine, and the whole room was now aware of that.
"You didn't hear a word I said before, did you?" he asked with amusement, like his lips weren't red from our roughened kisses.
"No," I admitted, forcing distance between us and throwing a confident smile at my mates who stood across the room, either watching us or glaring at Phoebe. Wane was absent, but a quick brush along the bond told me he was fine and nearby, probably with Verena. Phoebe was still in the armchair, now staring at the fire instead of us. No one was under any illusions that she was anything other than a threat, no matter what Wyn said. The fearful rage he’d kissed to quietness roared back to life again.
"She saved your life," Wyn repeated, his arm across my back, less supportive than restraining. If he let go, I’d shoot across the room and rip her throat out. "She warned me what would happen; you're here because of her."
