Page 44 of The Immortal’s Mark

My mind drifts a little, trying to figure out exactly what Alex’s earlier words meant and what was done to me.

I miss whatever is said next until⁠—

“WHAT?” Des’s roar shatters the air.

I jump, hand grabbing the banister.

The Immortal snarls, “Why did you not say anything?”

“It is only a hypothesis,” Alex replies, maddeningly calm.

“How do you know?” His irises flare. “Why would you keep it to yourself?”

“I spent a significant amount of time with her in adolescence,” Alex says, voice cool but not unkind. “She experienced similar symptoms just before her twenty-first birthday. I had no idea the same could occur with Darcie. When I made the connection, I came to find you.”

Des’s chest heaves once. Twice. He drags a hand over his face, fury dissolving into something older, heavier.

“She just had a birthday,” he mutters, so soft I nearly miss it.

Argos stretches and shakes out his fur. He pads forward and presses his muzzle to the back of Des’s neck.

Des drops his hands and turns, palm finding thick fur.

“Good boy.” His voice goes rough. “I’ll be okay. Go run. I’ll find you later.”

I swear, Argos nods.

He drags a quick lick on Des’s hand and pivots for the stairs leading down to the lawn, heading straight towards me.

Panic flares. I step to the side.

I have no idea what happens when a magical dog barrels through a girl in a vision, but I don’t want to find out.

Wind unfurls across the terrace, carrying the smell of clipped hedges. It billows behind me.

Argos halts mid-stride. His nose tips up, sniffing. Then his head snaps down, and he looks at me.

Shit.

His tail starts swinging.

No, Argos, I mouth the words. I wave my hands toward the lawn. Go play.

He hesitates, ears drooping. His tail stops wagging.

I press my lips together, then wave my hand once more. Go!

He lowers his head, gives me one last wounded-puppy look that almost ends me, and trots on. As soon as he hits grass, he’s a streak of brown running toward the treeline.

I sag against the rail, relief buzzing through my bones. My gaze slips back to the patio.

Alex studies Des from the side.

“You really care about her,” he says.

“I do.”

The word drops like a stone in my chest and ripples outward.