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I twisted aside and threw up, a deeper wave of nausea hitting me when the low, rumbling groan of stone on stone sounded behind me, and I realised we weren't in a bedroom. We were in the Labyrinth.
We never escaped.
I threw myself out of bed, barely recognising that I was in a bed, not on the stone floor of the Labyrinth, and threw myself at the ensuite bathroom. Through a sheer miracle, I reached the toilet before I vomited, each wave of sickness clenching my stomach in painful squeezes.
Within seconds, the bathroom was full of bodies and panic, and concern flooded my soul from every bond. Tears burned their way out of my eyes and down my cheeks. I could feel them, all of them. Alive, not unmade.
I lifted my hand to silently ask them to back up, but I’d barely moved my fingers when a crimson pulse of magic shot from my palm and incinerated the bougie collection of shampoo bottles beside me.
Oh, gods. I didn't mean to do that.
The melted lump of plastic and shampoo smoked, destroyed. Magic rattled through me now, volatile and growing with every second. I hadn't called my power up; I didn't want to use it. And yet it thrummed and howled through my body, responding to the threat and terror of my nightmare.
Fucking nightmares. I hated them.
"Back up," Emlyn warned, pitching his voice low so I wouldn't hear him.1
"I'm not leaving," Kai hissed. "She needs me."
"She needs to release that power," Harvey disagreed, not lowering his voice. I loved him for that, my heart swelling even as I shuddered and sparked with power.
Why was there so much of it? Magic roared in my veins, thumping through my head until my mates' voices warped, and it didn't listen to any of my panicked commands to stop, or calm the fuck down.
Another pulse blasted from my hand when I tried to push to my feet, this burst of red light dissolving part of the toilet bowl. Fucker!
I'd blasted a hole through the Labyrinth with this dangerous magic, and I still didn't know how. But the last thing I wanted was to blow holes in our new home.
"Your magic's responding to your fear, Sugarplum," Harvey said gently, coming a single step closer. "Do you need to go outside and release it?"
Outside. Where I wouldn't hurt my mates or destroy the house.
I nodded, and before I could move towards the door, Wynvail elbowed past Wane and grabbed my waist, white light enveloping us.
No. No no no!
"Are you insane?" I screamed when the light released us in the tall trees beside the house. I curled my hands into tight fists at my sides, shaking all over. "I could have killed you!"
Oh, gods, I could have killed him.
Pain and grief cut my chest, the nightmare still close enough to have its teeth in the vulnerable flesh of my heart. I could have killed him when he grabbed me; we were caught inside his power for five seconds, more than long enough for my magic to have burned a hole through his chest.
Power shattered down my arms, burning hot and endless in my gut, and I threw my hands out at the tall trees that backed onto our house. Gasps took over my breathing.
I could have lost him. Again. I came so dangerously close.
I dropped to my knees and threw up again, and it wasn't just bile that splattered the leaf-strewn ground but magic too—deep blood-red flames and power as black as the void. A chill spread through me. Was Cronus infecting me through my nightmares?
Was I … tainted by him?
"Is that shadow moving strangely to you?" Wynvail breathed, grabbing my forearms and pulling me unceremoniously to my feet.
His body was taut, alert. I knew which shadow he meant—there was a patch of darkness slanted between the trees, interrupting the pale-dawn lilac light in a way that seemed just slightly … off. Like it was never supposed to be here.
"He's here," Wyn gasped, a tremor moving through him and into my body.
I waited for panic to hit my system, but instead relief made my shoulders droop. It bled all the way through my soul, followed by a comfort I struggled to put into words. I dragged in a long breath, pretended my mouth wasn’t full of the taste of bile, and smiled.
I stroked Wyn’s tense arm. "It's not him. It's alright."
