I tensed. Oh, hell no.
The last thing I needed right now was an emotionally unstable werewolf with a personal vendetta at my side. Especially this emotionally unstable werewolf. He was unpredictable on a good day and today was certainly not a good day.
I opened my mouth to shut him down, but then I glanced at Isadora.
Still pale. Still clearly shaken.
More people meant more eyes on her. More bodies between her and Trystan. And if Ricky wanted to rip Trystan limb from limb in retaliation for his baby sister, who was I to stand in his way?
I jerked a quick nod. “Follow my lead.”
Ricky gave me a feral smile. “Yeah, sure.”
I sighed. “I’m not joking.”
“Oh, I know,” he said. “That’s what makes it adorable.”
I growled but didn’t bother wasting any more time arguing about this.
“Ricky…” Isadora said. “Are you sure? What if Thorne?—”
“I’m going,” he said flatly. “I owe that rat bastard pain. And I need to do something before I explode and start breaking things.”
Isadora nodded. “What about Felix and Cassian?”
“Cass is watching Thorne, and Felix is watching Cass.”
She frowned. “What? Why?”
“Cass and Thorne are twins,” Ricky said. “They’ve always been the closest of the four of us. You saw him earlier, pacing the room like a caged animal. He’s not okay right now. If Thorne wakes up in pain…” He shook his head. “Felix will keep him from doing anything stupid.”
With everyone finally on the same page, I led us toward the front door. I opened it without fanfare, and the three of us stepped out into the night and hurried toward my car. Ricky slid into the backseat without being told.
I started the engine, letting the hum of the car ground me.
“First, we need to speak to the Ravenspells,” I said as I pulled out of the driveway and took to the streets.
Ricky jerked his head up. “What? Why?”
“Because Trystan used magic,” Isadora said on my behalf. “Which means he’s working with someone. And we need to know who that someone is and what they’re capable of. We can’t go into this blindly.”
I hadn’t even thought of that. But I did add, “They also might be able to track the spell to give us his location.”
Ricky nodded, his expression contemplative. “What if the Ravenspells are helping them?”
Then I would end the feud between my family and theirs. Tonight. Permanently.
The rest of the drive passed in tense silence. I pushed the vehicle faster, weaving through the near-empty streets with one hand tight on the wheel and the other curled in Isadora’s hand.
Eventually, the Ravenspell estate came into sight. Thick ivy strangled the gates, but they creaked open without fanfare as we approached—courtesy of whatever surveillance they used to vet guests.
I pulled into the long drive, cut the engine, and stepped out. Isadora and Ricky joined me, the latter cracking his knuckles with slow, ominous precision.
We were halfway to the front door when it swung open and revealed Selene.
She stood barefoot in the doorway, draped in a gauzy black robe, her messy silver hair swept into a topknot, the strands falling around her face.
She assessed us, her eyes briefly widening. “Now this is an unexpected sight. A St. Germain and a Wolfe standing on my doorstep.” She stared at me. “Either someone’s dying, or someone’s about to.”
