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“Silas?” I ask, and Dragus nods.

“He wouldn’t forgive us if we took you without him here,” Matitus says behind me.

Anger pulsates through me. I’m mad that everything has to be run by Silas—needs his approval. They don’t want me unless Silas is with us. That’s going to be a problem when I don’t want Silas. Moving from Matitus’s lap, I pull my pants on, flopping back on the end of the bed, annoyed.

Dragus runs his hands up my thighs. “He’s our mate, he should be with us.”

“Well, he should have thought about that before he hurt me.”

“Don’t be like that, Elora. He loves you just like we do,” Matitus says.

“If that’s love I want no part of it.”

“He doesn’t mean it; you reminded him of—”

“I can’t believe you’re defending him after what he did.”

“He’s our mate, Elora, please understand,” Dragus tries to reason.

“Yeah, and I am supposed to be your mate, too,” I tell him. Dragus goes to say something else, but I don’t give him a chance, far too angry with them.

“Well go on, run along back to your mate,” I tell them. Dragus’s eyes shine with hurt, but he reluctantly leaves along with Matitus, closing the door behind them. Tears brim but I hold them back before rolling on my side. Why did I have to be the Fae blessed with magic? It wasn’t a gift but a curse, one I can’t escape from.