Page 134 of Echoes of the Banshee

His ears flatten, and I feel a flicker of sympathy. A part of me regrets that it had to go this far, but the other part of me can’t help the rush of satisfaction from seeing him humbled in front of everyone. He turns his head to look at Zair, searching for some kind of support.

“Told you she didn’t need my protection.” Zair raises his drink in a slow, mocking toast.

The wolf stumbles out of the room. My body hums with a restless energy, a simmering tension that refuses to settle. I spin at the girls around Benson and stalk towards them.

“If you’re going to try and sleep with my man, don’t do it where I can see you,” I warn.

They all scatter. I grab Benson’s hand and yank him to his feet. He leans in and whispers thanks before walking to stand with Zair and Dylan. I walk over and sit next to Sierra. She throws her arm around me, and I freeze for a moment, suddenly too aware of how easily my magic could escape again. She doesn’t seem to notice, too caught up in the excitement of the night.

“You don’t mess around, huh?”

“Nope.” My tone is sharper than I intend, as the tension coils tighter inside me. I try not to move, keeping my body still, even as my fists want to clench.

The music feels distant, and the laughter, too loud. A quiet unease creeps in, gnawing at my insides. Something’s coming, and I can’t tell if it’s me or something else.

I need a breather.

“Hey, Sierra, can you point me to the restroom?” She’s now deep in conversation with another girl, I wonder how long I was stuck in my head.

She gives me the directions and I thank her quickly before slipping out of the crowded room.

A sharp tug, and suddenly my back slams against the wall. My breath catches as I squint in the dark, disoriented.

Ethan. He’s dominating the small dark room, blocking my escape.

“Adora,” he says. “We need to talk.”

“We don’t need to talk, Ethan.”

His smile falters, but his eyes lock on mine, and I feel him inch closer. I step to the side, but his body shifts with me, closing the gap. The air between us feels thick, suffocating, and it’s all I can do not to flinch.

“We’re done. Whatever you think is unfinished, it isn’t,” I inform him.

His posture shifts, shoulders broadening, the space between us feels like a cage. My magic stirs under the surface. I clamp down on it with every ounce of willpower I have.

“You think it’s that simple?” His grin widens, cruel and knowing, as if he’s savoring every second. “You insult me in front of everyone, then walk away like nothing happened? You made your point. But we both know you’re not sleeping with that goblin.”

I put my hand on his chest, trying to push him away, but something happens. A sensation that’s foreign and unsettling, like my fingers grazing against something that isn’t flesh. It’s like touching the very core of him.

The world tilts. For a heartbeat, I can feel… everything: his anger, his frustration, the sharpness of his need all swirling together in a violent rush. It’s too much, too fast, and I pull away instinctively, shuddering as the room seems to spin.

I stagger, trying to steady myself, but the sensation lingers. Like I’ve touched something that isn’t meant to be touched. Something alive in a way I can’t even explain.

My breath catches, my chest tight, my heart racing. What the hell was that? I try to leave and he blocks my path again.

“You’re really cute when you pretend you’ve won.” His breath brushes my face as he leans in. “But you’re just running away from what’s real. You and me? We were never done. I’m still the one who can give you what you need.”

The bile rises in my throat, but it’s not his words. It’s the feeling that won’t leave me, that strange, wrong sensation that makes my skin crawl. The pull of my magic grows, but I shove it down, trying to stay calm, trying to breathe through it.

I need to get away.

“Is there a problem here, Ethan?”

Zair’s voice slices through the tension like a cool blade. He leans against the doorway, arms crossed, expression unreadable. He’s not charging in. He’s watching, letting me stand my ground but ready to tip the balance if needed.

Ethan startles, caught offguard. His hold on the moment faltering, his eyes flicking toward Zair with a flash of irritation.

“What are you doing here, Zair?” Ethan sneers, trying to recover his composure. “Everyone knows you don’t sleep with witches. Leave us.”