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But Maia was shaking, her lips tingling, the urge for more magic to replace the power she'd just used making her tremble. She could sink her awareness into the ground and tear it free, fill herself up so no one could hurt her like Etziel had ever again—
"Maia," Ark said sternly, filling her vision. "Breathe."
"I want power, Ark."
"That's the iron talking," he disagreed. "Remember what Evrille said? It would corrupt your soul."
Azrail swore softly. "You're right."
Maia swallowed, grabbing onto Ark even if she wanted to suck magic from every living thing around her. The tug pulled her more insistently in the direction of the shop, and Maia held onto that tug to push through the dizzying need for power. She knew Ark was right, but it didn't make the lure any less powerful.
"Okay?" Kheir asked, watching her closely, a furrow between his dark brows.
Maia nodded. "I'm okay."
"Then we should—"
Maia gasped as the door to the chemist flew open across the street, and a man stormed onto the pavement, leaning heavily on a wooden stick. He wasn't old and grizzled; he was young and dangerously handsome. And pissed all the way off.
"Who the fuck are you people?" he demanded, staring right at them and not seeming intimidated by the fact Maia had just torn down his shield.
He took another step, and Maia inhaled sharply as a pulse went through her, the men around her reacting as if they felt the same ripple rocking through her body, through her soul.
"I've felt this before," Ark breathed, his hazel eyes wide. "When I met you, Jaromir."
"What?" Azrail demanded, bristling with protectiveness.
Maia just stared at the tall, glaring man across the street, breathing faster. "I know why. He's my mate," she breathed when everyone threw her questioning stares.
But her words were drowned out by the man's sudden shout as he raced into the road, his walking stick thumping the ground.
"Jaromir!" he yelled, all his anger replaced by a shell-shocked expression. "Jaro!"
