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“Better?”
I nod, and truthfully I do feel better. At least we have a plan.
“Feeling well enough to get back to work?”
My stomach growls, reminding me again just how hungry I am. I don’t complain, knowing Branwen must be just as hungry as I am, and there’s nothing either of us can do to fix it.
Well… that’s not true. I might be able to do something if I can figure out enough to get us out of here using my abilities. I just need to work harder. Do better.
With renewed purpose, I return to stand before the bowls. “What am I trying next?”
“Wind,” Branwen answers. “You’re going to make the water move with wind.”
“Alright. Just… one question. Why two bowls?”
Branwen tucks her legs beneath her and winks.
“For when you make the first one explode, Darling.”
Chapter 35
Caelan
Standing in the training yard, I watch with dry, unblinking eyes as the fire blazes and the sun dawns on a new day. I haven’t slept since it first sprang to life, cutting me off from my Mate and creating a barrier miles long that I can’t get through without burning alive.
Branwen's note is tucked into the back pocket of my jeans, but I don’t need to take it out to remember what it says. I’ve read it so many times, looking for any hint or clue I might’ve missed, that I can recite it from memory.
‘I’m sure Shade would like to leave the forest at some point.’
Snorting, I shake my head. As if my biggest worry is for the panther with the entire forest to himself. He’s probably frolicking through the trees, chasing rabbits, sharpening his claws against bark, and living his best fucking life.
My Mate’s out there, somewhere. I know it. I can feel her through our Bond, even with it muted.
I pick up a stick and hurl it at the flames, watching as the fire feasts on the wood. The bark curls, the embers spread and flare, and within seconds the stick is nothing more than ash.
Soren pads up next to me, his huge paws leaving actual indents in the grass. The fucker stands to my shoulders in his Beast form, like a damn direwolf on steroids.
I’ve seen plenty of shifted wolven before, but none have ever been as massive as Soren. It gives me an odd sense of security, knowing my Mate won’t ever be unprotected so long as they’re together. I doubt even a Pack of Severed could take down a Beast the size of a Clydesdale.
He hasn’t said anything, but I know it meant everything to him when Idril accepted him in his shifted form so easily. I never would have known just how worried he was before that, but if I had, I would have told them there was no reason to be.
Idril’s the kindest, bravest female I’ve ever known.
She’s been through Hell in ways even most Alphas wouldn’t have recovered from, not only at the hands of her father and his twisted experiments, but also because that’s where it should have fucking ended. She never should have been forced to watch her Mate nearly die, only to be taken by his Pack and treated like an enemy, only to then discover that very Pack are her Scent-Matched Mates.
I don’t even know how the hell she’s standing some days.
And I still have so much fucking pent-up anger and aggression coursing through me when it comes to my Brothers and my team. The only two I’m not pissed at are Ford and Evander, and I wish with all my soul they’d been here when Idril was brought back. If they had, no one would have gotten away with treating her the way they did.
Evander’s a gentle giant and has a heart of gold. He had an Omega sister who was killed by a Pack of Alphas a few centuries back. It left a mark on him that still hasn't fully healed.
After her death, which came only a year after the death of their parents, Evander was all alone, just trying to make it through each day however he could.
I think that’s one reason why he reads so much. Books were how he escaped as a child. They allowed him to dissociate from the things he was forced to see living on the streets and what he had to do just to stay alive. As he grew older, they never stopped being his escape.
He and Idril are going to get along so well, I know it. Books are the same for her—especially fantasy books, which are his favorite too.
He told me that when he was a child living on the streets in the early 1800’s, he’d read whatever he could get his hands on, but when Fantasy started to become more mainstream, he fell into those and never came up for air.
