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A weird feeling swelled in my chest, and I felt drawn toward her. I felt like… I needed her.
Like I was supposed to be her friend.
Like we were the same.
“You okay?” Quake asked, sitting down on the armrest of the couch I occupied.
“Don’t know,” I rasped.
I felt his concern, though I didn’t look at him.
I still couldn’t look away from Dove.
“This is weird,” Margo said, waving a hand in front of my eyes.
I still couldn’t look away from her.
“Your magic is churning,” Quake said in a low voice. “I can feel the stone beneath us starting to respond.”
I didn’t answer right away.
The emotions were too strange—and too strong.
“Granite,” Margo murmured.
“She’s mine,” I said, the words soft enough that no one but the three of us could’ve heard. “Dissiri. She’s mine.”
Margo swore.
My magic flared with the realization, swelling so powerfully that it felt like a tangible presence in the room.
Dissiri lifted her hands to her head, pressing her palms into her temples and crying out in pain.
Horror flooded me.
My power was hurting her.
Quake set a hand on my shoulder, and then transported us back to the couch in his castle, leaving Margo at the party. I was sure he was speaking into her mind, telling her to come up with an excuse as to why we’d left.
I was too busy reeling, feeling like I’d just had half my soul ripped out from within me, to consider going back.
Quake crouched in front of me, his hand on my knee, as if he was worried I might try to make a run for it.
“Dove’s your fated mate?” he asked, his voice low and urgent.
I heard the term and felt it roll through my mind until it settled in my chest.
My mate.
She was my mate.
Or at least, she was supposed to be.
“Yes,” I said, choking out the word. “But my magic hurt her.”
“Fuck.” He raked a hand over his head. “Her magic makes every aspect of her life a struggle. Yours does too. Together… it could make life hell for you both.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
