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He hums in his throat and then kisses my forehead again. It doesn’t feel like he’s doing another spell, just like he wants to do it, as though he likes the feel of my skin on his lips. He pulls back, just slightly, and smiles down at me. “You won’t be able to tell them about me, wildcard. I worked it into the protection spell. And you won’t be able to snap the threads of my spell. Sloppy of them to leave theirs open for you to do that. I want you safe, no matter what.”
It’s implied that the others don’t want me safe, that for all of their power, they don’t know as much as he does. That because he’s not bound by the same rules as they are, he’s figured out a way to make his spell unbreakable.
He swallows, his thumb pressing into the corner of my mouth. “I’m going to miss you while I’m gone. Fuck. I didn’t think this through enough.”
I blink up at him. He seems to think we have an entire relationship that I never realized. I mean, sure, I thought of us as friendly. He helped me when no one else did, as much as he could. But now I’m finding out that he knew exactly what was happening to me this whole time. He knew I was a witch, and that others were using magic against me, and he didn’t try to stop them, even though he claims to be more powerful than them.
Anger that I should have been feeling this entire conversation rears up. I jerk my head back and away from him, glaring up at his gorgeous face. I don’t say anything, but he sees my anger and acknowledges it with a nod, a small sad smile curling his lips.
“If you need me, wildcard, I’ll come. If you want to join me, learn from me, I’ll be there. If you just need to talk, call me. If you need to escape all this bullshit,” he motions around us, encompassing the island and the magic that it holds. “I will help you. Whatever you need. I promise you, I will give it to you.”
My lips curl back in a snarl and I’m getting ready to throw all of my rage at him, but he just winks at me and thendisappearsinto thin air. But he can’t have really disappeared, so he must have access to illusions and he’s just invisible, but still here. Or maybe I’m wrong and he can teleport. Who the fuck knows?
“You are such a fucking asshole, Cohen. I swear if I ever see you again, I’m going to rip your dick off.”
A low chuckle reaches my ears and I know that my initial thought is right. He’s still here, likely going to watch as my boys find me, as they work to undo the magic holding me in place, as they ask me questions I won’t be able to answer because Cohen has bound my ability to talk about what happened here.
Doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to break it, though.
I sit there, stewing in my anger, ignoring the asshole still in the room with me, until the sound of footsteps reaches me. “Rosalind, baby? Where are you?” Fielder’s voice echoes in the cave, and I sag down in my chair.
“I’m here,” I call out, still pissed at Cohen. The sound of footsteps increases into a run, and in a moment I’m surrounded. Fielder crouches in front of me, hands cupping my face as his worry pours over me.
“What the fuck happened?”
My mouth opens, and I try to form words to tell them, but no sound comes out. I keep trying, my mouth moving but not actually forming the words I want to say. Even if they could read lips, this would be a garbled mess. I grunt in frustration, now fully aware of how Merritt felt at the end of last term when she tried to tell me what was actually going on.
“Is Merritt okay?” I ask, and finally my voice emerges.
Fielder sags, his forehead pressing into my thighs, before he looks at me again. “Yeah, she’s okay. Back in your dorm room behind about a million wards, with Ben watching over her.”
“Love,” Hardin says, drawing my attention to him. “Tell us what happened. Who did this to you?”
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
“You can’t because you don’t know?” Gideon grumbles from behind my chair. “Or you know, but you can’t say?”
“The second one,” I sigh. “Can you undo the spell holding me in place? I can’t move.”
All of them snap to attention, and in seconds they’re chanting over me to undo the spell. I halfway wonder if they’re actually able to undo the spell or if stupid Cohen is just going to cut it off and make them think they’ve done it.
I resist the urge to look around for him, to see if I can spot some ripple that will tell me where his illusion is. Instead, I keep my gaze focused on Fielder, on Ezra, on Hardin.
I will not look for him. I will not show him I’m aware of him being in this room with us.
A tingle starts around my wrists and then my hands slip off the arms of the chair and into my lap. I wiggle my fingers and toes and let out a sigh. “Thank you.”
I don’t know if I’m thanking them or Cohen. I try not to examine it that closely.
Gideon scoops me out of the chair, cradling me against his chest as his lips press against my hair. I let out a sound of protest. “I can walk, you know.”
He chuckles. “I know.” He doesn’t put me down. Instead, he heads toward the hallway that they emerged from.
“Why did you cut all the protection spells we put on you?” Ezra asks, keeping pace with us.
I open my mouth to answer. But again, nothing comes out. My hands fist and I try again and again, but nothing I do works.
“It’s okay, love.” Hardin grabs one of my hands and uncurls my fingers, lacing his through them. “We’ve all felt the effects of a silence spell. We know that fighting them is next to impossible.”
