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He waved away my immediate protest. “But I’m fine. I’m sorry you lost your friends.”
“None of us blame you, Auren.”
I could tell he didn’t believe me, but no amount of me reassuring him would convince him to let go of the guilt. That was something he’d have to do himself.
I patted his shoulder, he gave me a weak grin, and we said our goodbyes as he ducked away, following the path that the little blond weirdo had.
I watched him go for a moment before heading on my own way, eager to see if either of the twins had time to humor me between classes. They were waving off a group of kids when I made it up the hill, and once they’d all dispersed, I cleared my throat to get their attention.
Kiran grinned when he spotted me, hands on his hips. “Finally in the mood to fight it out?”
I chuckled. “I figured it’s a good way to ease the tension some.”
“Or you could finally let us take you for a run,” Atlan grumbled, then sighed when I didn’t comment on the offer. “I’ll referee. You two can go at it.”
Kiran’s defense was terrible. After spending so much time sparring with him and Atlan, it had become clear to me that the grouchier of the pair was the shield to Kiran’s sword, which made it easy to take the rowdier twin down during a one-on-one match. Thankfully, it didn’t matter how many times I pinned the other hybrid—he always bounced back instantly, eager to go for another round.
After nearly breaking my arm—and my wolf’s subsequent surge to the forefront, which broke my concentration and put me back on edge—we decided to call it.
I rolled my injured shoulder with a glare.
“I already apologized,” Kiran whined, then laughed when he dropped across from me. “Don’t give me that look! It makes me feel bad.”
“I didn’t think you were even capable of guilt,” I said dryly, and he gripped his chest like I’d wounded him. Atlan gave him a kick, rolling his eyes at the theatrics.
“Of course I am! I feel terrible when I hurt someone.”
The fact that I’d seen him literally eat people before told me otherwise, but it seemed easier to let the conversation drop.
Atlan then decided to pick my brain about my misadventure in Hell, curious if it was anything like the human stories had made it out to be, so I got the immense pleasure of trying to casually unpack my trauma. They were good at being positive, though.
When I’d mentioned how disturbed I was that I might end up there when I died, Kiran had been happy to point out that I was only half-fallen and theoretically should be able to weasel my way free of Lucifer’s clutches, just like how Ashe had dissed Lucifer’s ability to tell the truth. I similarly didn’t have the heart to tell him about what a dick Michael was; if all angels were like him, I doubted I was getting out of Hell.
Aria found us just as they were beginning to prod me about Barimuz’s intentions, and I let out a huff of relief at the excuse to not have to.
“Reese is never going to get over this,” she said, almost complaining. Her arms went around my shoulders as she collapsed beside me, and I happily pulled her into my lap.
Atlan and Kiran gave one another pointed looks before Atlan lost whatever debate they’d been having with their eyes and cleared his throat. “Well, she was the one to throw it, right? It’ll probably take her some time to come to terms with that.”
Aria huffed, turning in my lap to look at them. I looped my arms around her middle and propped my chin on her shoulder as she crossed her own arms. “You should have seen her when Auren showed up to check on her, though. I think she resents him over it.”
I pushed aside my instant defensiveness of my brother in favor of listening to her rant about how withdrawn Reese had been. It seemed pointless to point out that the fact Reese had even let her into her house meant that she was beginning to feel a bit better, but Kiran tried. Unsuccessfully. Aria just brushed him off.
“Oh! Before I forget….” She, surprisingly, pulled out a smartphone. “Auren gave this to me! Let me show you guys an article.”
My brow furrowed. Why hadn’t he givenmea damn phone? I begrudgingly watched as she pulled up the article she was hunting for.
“The Upper Council got outed as funding the Black Market by some anonymous source—they shared invoices, phone calls, and everything! They’re trying to spin it like they were hunting for a cure for the fallen-bloods, though.”
She offered me the phone when my shock reverberated down the bond, letting me flip through the article myself.
“That makes sense,” Atlan commented. “They’ll say anything to cover their asses at this point. News is spreading that the Resistance has a vaccine to help with the madness, and that’s probably destroying their credibility.”
“What do you mean?” Aria questioned as I flipped through the images, almost wishing I hadn’t. Graphic depictions of mutilated bodies were circulating, and people were losing their minds over it. My faith in our country’s ability to tell right from wrong doubled as I scanned each comment section, relieved that nobody was attempting to defend the Upper Council.
“They’re already in deep shit for losing support for the war, plus the Council itself is fracturing now that Elias has publicly joined forces with us. Nobody’s going to take them seriously, much less trust them enough to follow them blindly like they were doing before. Azazel is probably losing Francesca’s support, too, since she’s so particular about her image.”
I passed the phone back to Aria. “I wouldn’t be surprised,” I commented as my mate leaned back against me, soaking in my embrace.
