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“We’ve met her before, brother,” Hinrik stated to the surprise of everyone else in the room. “Or at the very least, she knew about us.”

“What are you talking about? This is the first time we are all being introduced. You just welcomed her yourself,” Ulrik spoke.

“I welcomed her as a sister; that does not mean I did not know her before.”

“So, you have met me?” I asked, not understanding.

Hinrik shook his head and reached out, pinching his fingers in the space in front of his body. I still didn’t understand until I felt a pull as he tugged on the air in front of him. Reaching up to my chest, I held my hand over my heart.

“What are you doing?”

“Are you alright?” Theseus whispered, placing his hand on my back.

I nodded. It was painful, and it was just like being pulled.

“Forgive me,” Hinrik replied. “That is my gift. I can not only see your own, but I can also see when it is being used on others. It’s like a thread. When Ulrik switches the gift between two vampires, there is a silver thread that links back to him no matter how far away he is from them. So, I know when Ulrik used his gift and whom he used it on.”

“There is a thread between you and her?” Theseus frowned. “Why would that be ?”

“It not just me; it is on all of us.” He reached out one by one and did what he did with me on to the rest of them.

“She did something to us?” Melora held her hand over her chest. “When? How?”

“Most importantly, what?” Ulrik’s face was now hard, and his eyes fixed on me dangerously, making Theseus growl. “Do not growl at me brother. It is your mate that is attacking us.”

“I—”

“I never said it was an attack,” Hinrik cut in before I could defend myself.

“If it is not an attack, what possible reason could there be for her to use witchcraft on us?” Arsiein questioned, his eyes just as hard as Ulrik’s.

“Whatever the reason, you will stop glaring at her as if she is an enemy or you shall be mine,” Theseus snapped at them both, and I squeezed his hand hard to make him calm down.

“Will all of you let me bloody finish?” Hinrik yelled. They all sat back but didn’t relax. “For heavens, Ulrik, Arsiein, calm yourselves. If she is not attacking, then it is must be a defense. The thread is golden; she is protecting us from something.”

Arsiein and Ulrik both moved to question him further, but he glared at them both, and they held back, for now, still eyeing me unsure.

“I noticed a year ago,” Hinrik referred to his father. “What is it she is protecting us from? I don’t know. How is it we are being protected? I also do not know. However, I know it to be true. At first, it was subtle; usually, I know exactly what is happening. I can trace it back to whoever it is, but this time, it wasn’t. In the beginning, I could not even see the thread. I was sure I felt it, though. Nevertheless, I was still doubtful, and I went to Father and explained. Now I am sure it exists, and it connects us all back to Druella. Now you may all question.”

“That is the reason you both left?” Rhea asked her mate. “You were searching for her.”

Sigbjørn nodded, not the least bit surprised by this conversation, though he was probably listening more to our thoughts than or words.

“Very wise, my daughter.” His voice entered my mind before he spoke. “Hinrik came to me a year ago with this. Daughter, I can see a history of who or whatever with a single touch—everything that brought them to be exactly as they are now. So, imagine my surprise upon searching your minds and seeing you all had gaps in your memories as well.”

“Nothing is off about my memory.” Melora rubbed her head like she still felt him searching in there.

“What did we do for Theseus’s birthday last year?” Sigbjørn question.

“He wasn’t here; he was in America,” Atarah answered, and they all nodded except Hinrik.

“I did not ask you where he was. I asked, what did we do? What did you do that day?” Sigbjørn pressed, and they all looked at each other.

Again, Atarah spoke up. “It was a normal day. I went out to the gardens, Arsiein and I read in the library, went for a hunt in town, and that is it.”

“Are you sure that is it?” Sigbjørn asked back.

“Father, we could hardly remember exactly what happens on every normal day in our existence,” Arsiein spoke this time, and Ulrik agreed.

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