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I growled, surging forward to help, dropping more soldiers in my path, even as Scion pressed a hand to his bleeding face.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I bellowed.
He didn’t even ask how I’d come to be here—either taking it for granted that I’d found my way out of the cage or forgetting altogether with everything else happening.
He shook his head, blood spraying between his fingers. His visible eye looked more angry than wounded, which gave me slight hope this was nothing more than a flesh wound. “I’m going to fucking kill Ambrose. I’ll slaughter him for this.”
That was an unusually specific threat. “Why wouldn’t you just clear the hall?”
He extended a hand to me, and I realized the problem a split second before I saw it. A flame danced in his hand, just like the one I’d been able to make before I’d spent several days in the cage.
“I don’t know what Ambrose did,” Scion barked. “But he…fucked with something. I can’t use any of my magic, just this fucking fire.”
It was an effort not to gape at him. Laugh. Something.
My cousin was not stupid generally, but he was certainly putting in a great deal of effort to seem so. His denial was so strong he’d seemed to have entirely discounted the laws of our world—misunderstood even the most basic of principles.
My immediate assumption when we encountered my little monster in the woods over a year ago now was that she was special. She’d resisted Scion’s illusion, which hardly ever meant anything other than a bond. But then she’d bitten me, and I was immediately interested in her. I’d held her back from running after the rebels as long as I could without being noticed. I thought even then that she might be mine, or perhaps both of ours.
Scion, however, had taken the same set of facts and assumed she was part of the rebellion. He’d twisted himself into knots, justifying clear signs with absurd causation, believing only the worst possible option, the strangest scenario. Perhaps he didn’t want a mate? It was hard to argue with that in our family, where to find your mate was always a death sentence or further misery. Perhaps he simply didn’t believe she was anything other than human. This, though, was truly absurd.
To be sharing her magic, he must have given her blood at some point. He must be able to feel her power. The same damned thing had happened to me when Lonnie was attacked on our grounds, and suddenly, there was hardly anything I could do but watch.
How, then, could he possibly still believe this had anything to do with Ambrose?
Maybe if he only had it spelled out for him.
“You fed Lonnie your blood, and I saw the bite on her neck. That’s—” I broke off, seeing the expression on his face. He looked…ill. Like he was in greater pain than a moment ago when his face was slashed. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry,” he said shortly.
My eyes widened. Scion did not apologize. Ever. I might have been pleased if only I knew what the fuck he was apologizing for. “Why?”
It was his turn to look confused. “I didn’t mean to mark her like that. It was…there was Gancanagh’s Dust—” He broke off and gestured toward us vaguely. “This will only confuse things further.”
I laughed incredulously. “You self-loathing bastard. I didn’t know it was possible to be this oblivious.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, looking almost angry now. “She’s your mate.”
“Yes, she is,” I said evenly. “And apparently, I am cursed to share her with the thickest, least self-aware male on this continent. If we were not related, I might start to question the strength of your bloodline for such blatant stupidity.”
His pained expression turned quickly to anger, twisting and pulling at the edges of the gash across his cheek. “I am not the one refusing to see the truth. She’s not my mate. I would know by now if she were, I’m sure of it, but I don’t feel…” He waved his hand at me. “Whatever you’re supposed to feel.”
“Sci…” I said, running my hand through blood-encrusted hair.
I was fairly certain he simply didn’t know what it felt like to find one’s mate, but that would be impossible to explain. He wouldn’t believe me until he was smacked in the face with it. Fuck, he’d probably kill us all by accident just to prove she wasn’t his.
“Don’t you see now what’s meant to happen?” Scion hissed. “Sooner or later, you will realize that you cannot break this curse, and then you’ll ask me to marry her to keep her safe for you, and I will because I can’t say no to either of you. But no, she’s not my mate. She’s yours. So, until you’re ready to ask me to take her from you, please keep her as far away from me as possible and try not to kill us.”
Knowing we didn’t have time for this if we were going to get the family out before I found Lonnie, I merely nodded at him and darted into the tower.
* * *
The rebels—allfucking one hundred of them—had clearly been dispatched to guard my brother and sister, as well as Thalia and, oddly, Elfwyn.
The small group sat on the floor near the foot of Scion’s four-poster bed. It was clear why none of them had shadow walked out of here. They all had burns, cuts, and other wounds all over their bodies. All except Gwydion, who looked more or less healthy except for a singe on his hair. They all seemed to be coming back into consciousness, some faster than others. I darted over, bending to peer into my sister’s dazed eyes. “Are you alright?”
Aine scowled at me, which I took as a good sign. “I shall live if that’s what you’re asking,” she said, her voice shaking slightly as she pushed to her feet. “But no, I am not fucking alright.”
