Torin pulls his shirt over his head and crouches beside her. He helps her slide into it and checks the gash on her arm. He lifts her to her feet with his arm steady under hers. She leans into him and winces and her tail hangs low behind her.
“Damn, man,” Torin mutters.
I look up from Mara to the tree line. Tiana is standing at the edge of the forest with her hand pressed over her mouth, her eyes wide, tears streaming down her face.
The exact pose from the time-slip.
My magic flares. I want to kill her. I want to rip her apart for bringing Mara here because I know she did it. I can’t prove it. My sister would deny it, my mother would take her side. But I know.The pose tells me everything. She’s not surprised that Mara is at the Glen. She’s horrified that it went wrong.
I don’t say anything to her. I just look at her across the clearing—magic still flickering off my hands, two headless warlocks at my feet.
The Glen pulses behind us. It’s going to keep failing because I’m the one who broke it.
“The Glen won’t stay sealed,” I tell them. My voice comes out flat. “No matter what we do now. It’s done.”
All three of them are watching me in horror. Nobody speaks.
“I’m going to have to figure out how to deal with this.”
“We need to get your mate to Wintermoon Medical,” Torin says, but my eyes are still on Tiana. In the time-slip she ran. Disappeared into the forest like a coward. She’s not running now, and I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.
21
Mara
Ican’t stop staring at him. Aaron’s standing over two headless warlocks with blue-gold light still crackling off his fists and the blood is everywhere—the ground, the bodies, splattered across my arms and drying warm against me. The copper smell of it fills my nose and pushes out everything else, even Aaron’s scent. I wipe my forearms across the shirt Torin just pulled over my head but the blood smears instead of coming off.
Torin stays close. I can smell the fear buried under his usual scent. He reaches up and pulls the band off his wrist, gathering his locs and pinning them back like he needs something to do with his hands. His bright green eyes keep cutting between me and Aaron, and I know what he’s thinking because I’m thinking it too—we just watched Aaron skin two men alive and take their heads off with their own conjured blade.
My tail is swinging behind me in fast, erratic arcs and my lion is pacing inside me, alert and watchful. Every instinct I have is telling me to go to my mate. But Aaron isn’t looking at me. His eyes are fixed on something past the tree line.
I follow his gaze and my ears snap forward. Tiana is standing at the edge of the forest with her hand pressed over her mouth, tears running down her face.
“What happened?” I ask Torin. “How did the warlocks get out of the Glen?”
“The seal didn’t hold.” Torin keeps his voice low, watching Aaron the whole time. “I heard King Amir and Angie discussing it earlier.”
Aaron hasn’t moved. He’s locked on Tiana with his hands still glowing and he’s looking at his sister like she’s the next threat. My lion feels it—a fracture between those two that runs deeper than tonight, that was already there before the warlocks ever broke out of the Glen.
Tiana steps out of the forest and walks toward us with magic sparking at her fingertips. Her hands hang loose at her sides but her fingers are spread and her weight is low—my lion reads it the same way she reads any predator trying to look calm. The tears are still wet on her face but her expression has gone hard and her steps don’t hesitate.
Aaron’s glare deepens with every step she takes. His magic flares brighter, the glow climbing up his forearms, and he doesn’t speak until she stops in front of us.
“I knew you would betray me.” His voice is low and raw, nothing like the Aaron I know. “Try to take her from me when you know she’s all I have.”
I’ve sensed the tension between Aaron and Tiana before but I could never place it—a sharpness when he spoke to her earlier. But he’s never sounded like this. Whatever fear drove him to trap me in our suite has curdled into a voice I don’t recognize, like the man I love has stepped back and left his magic standing in front of me.
I step between them and press my palm flat against Aaron’s chest. His heart is slamming so hard I can feel it through hisshirt and his skin is hot—the magic running through him turns his body into something that almost burns.
“Stop.” I keep my voice steady even though my hand wants to shake. “No, Aaron. Stop.”
My voice hits him and the feral edge drops. His shoulders fall and the glow on his arms dims and when he looks down at me his eyes are Aaron’s again.
He cups my face with both hands and presses his forehead against mine. His palms are still warm from the magic and I can smell the fear under his frustration now, buried deep.
“Baby, are you alright?” His voice breaks on it.
“I’m okay,” I tell him. But he’s already pulling back, his attention dropping to my arm where the gash from the warlock’s magic is still healing. I watch the panic take over his face. His nostrils flare, his scent goes sharp with worry, and his fingers hover over the wound like he’s afraid to touch it.
