Quinn. I looked up. He wasn’t just big, he was built. Muscles swelled under a soaked football jersey; the fabric tucked into a blue tartan kilt. Cleats clung with tufts of mud. Just one of his legs was the size of some of the trainees here. He looked like he could break someone in half, an enforcer for sure, but they all blurred together to me. I rested my hands on the bar, brow furrowing. Quinn had once mentioned a “handsome” enforcer when we first met, then never brought him up again. Was this him?
The man ran his fingers through his white hair, squeezing out water.
White. My heart skipped a beat. The exact same shade left in Quinn’s dorm when I found her bleeding on her couch. Fury changed my vision to red. This wall of muscle had hurt my best friend.
Each of my fingers worked with its own mind. I traced the runes, which ran along my body, activating enhancements that increased my strength and speed. Power infused my legs first.
“Um, ah, Rowan, man. I haven’t seen her this morning.” The bartender's voice barely registered. With my legs strengthened, I shifted my focus to my arms.
Rowan and the bartender studied each other.
“You’re lying to me,” Rowan said lowly. “Why?”
I finished the strength rune on my muscles and stood. My fingers burned as I drew runes faster than I knew possible. Two balls of pure force grew in my palms.
When the bartender didn’t answer, Rowan strode past him and into the back, leaving the bartender pale-faced and shaking. I didn’t waste the opportunity to slide past him as well. A tight hall slowed down my casting, but didn’t stop it. A few paces later, my magic clicked into place, and the two balls of raw magic sizzled in my palms, brightening the hall.
Rowan cursed and spun around while I let out a roar and charged forward. Raw magic seared through the air, scorching his jersey until the fabric melted away. The massive mage went flying backward and crashed into the room at the end. Stacked boxes toppled, tumbling with the force of his impact. In seconds, I had him pinned, the remnants of his shirt clenched in my fist, and I drew my arm back.
Breaking glass rained down on the room. Whatever he’d hit created a chain reaction, and the sound of shattering glass tinkled like rain.
Movement at my side made me hesitate, and the world slowed. Quinn stood in the middle of the falling glassware. Wine balloons sparkled as they hit the ground and shattered, bits bouncing back into the air. A stem flew toward her ankle.
Wind whipped around Quinn’s legs, knocking the stem away and creating a shield around her. I looked down at the man in my grip, who focused not on me, but on Quinn. The raining glass eased, and his glowing white gaze turned back to me. His fist connected with my face. Time sped back up. I flew backward. Pain radiated while blood dripped from my broken nose.
Rowan flipped to standing and lunged for me again. I blocked. The impact jarred my magic-infused strength. A begrudging respect filled Rowan’s gaze before he punched again and again.
It didn’t take me long to realize I was in over my head, but an image of Rowan’s massive body, leaning over Quinn on her couch… suddenly my vision changed. Instead of her couch, I saw a bed of red silk. The Prophet’s light kissed Quinn’s skin as he straddled her against her will. Blind rage became my world.
I blocked and dropped. Glass cut into my hands before I donkey kicked with both my legs. I hit Rowan hard; my magically infused muscles sent him staggering backward. I pushed off the ground and took one step closer to him.
Quinn slid between us, her arms out. “Stop! What are you doing?”
Glass crunched under our feet. The sounds from the pub murmured in the background. I drank in Quinn’s face. Here with me. A breath of wet air, smelling of too many different foods, ran over my taste buds, nothing like the Prophet’s compound. The rage drained out of me. Behind Quinn, Rowan picked himself up. His white hair focused my thoughts. This fight had never been about the Prophet.
Pushing Quinn behind me, I faced Rowan again. “Explain yourself.”
I cringed at the sound of my nasal voice through my broken nose. My adrenaline rush ebbed, making my face throb and the cuts on my hands burn.
“Explain myself?” Rowan slid back into a fighting stance. “You attacked me, Lawson.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Your magic was all over Quinn’s dorm the night I healed her.”
“You healed her?” Rowan brought his hands to a front guard position. “I’m surprised you didn’t take her back to your compound to do it.”
“She will never set foot in that place,” I snarled. “I will die before I let the Prophet see her face.”
Rowan blinked. “Ah. Did you agree with me?”
“You were in my room?” Quinn put her hand on my arm and came out from behind me. “Rowan. What’s going on?”
I stuck my arm out to keep Quinn from moving any further forward.
Rowan clenched his fists and let out a frustrated breath. “It’s complicated.”
Quinn gripped my arm. “Try, because you came flying in here with my best friend beating on you. It doesn’t look good.”
“You messaged me,” Rowan growled before gesturing to me. “And one of us definitely looks more beat than the other.”
