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Grounding myself, I take a few deep breaths so I don’t kill us all just because I’m pissed off. Jasper raises an eyebrow. “Well, it’s nice to see you care about Issy. It doesn’t mean I’m ready to trust you, though. Not until I hear the full story of what happened and why I have been walking around with the guilt of your deaths all these years.”
Ishara gives Jasper a wide-eyed look. They slept together, making their fated-mate bond permanent, but he hadn’t even told her his darkest secret? It seems that he’s the one who shouldn’t be trusted.
A rustling comes from behind us and I turn around to find Zyran rummaging through a dresser. “It’s a shitty story,” he grumbles as he fists a pair of lacy underwear, then pulls open a new drawer.
What in the ever-loving fuck is he doing?
Ishara protests but is interrupted by Jasper’s growl. “Wait, you guys are the ones who gave me the kill order, right? Why are you involved with a dead warlock?”
Jasper might believe we’re his brothers, but he invades my personal space, showing his aggression.
“We’re soul-bound slaves to the patriarchs of the Outcast Coven,” I inform him, not holding anything back. Raising one hand, I show him my Gold and Garnet ring. “This was how he was controlling us. So rest assured, we at least have our free will back. Your life was always his bargaining chip, anyway, and he clearly can’t threaten that anymore.”
Jasper’s jaw clenches as if he’s not sure if he believes me.
Zyran ignores the rising tension in the room and offers Ishara, or Issy, a dress and the underwear he’s holding. “Here, baby girl.”
She accepts the garments and stares at him when he turns around.
I do the same.
Fated mate or not, her body is her own. If she wishes to show it to me, she will.
Although, seeing her spread open and naked is an image I’m going to live off for as long as I can. I’m a gentleman.
Not a saint.
The witch is getting dressed behind us when our time runs out. Recently killed corpses rush through the doorway, leaving blood and gore in their wake.
Zyran makes quick work of them by retrieving his weapon and swiftly removing their heads, leaving a neat pile on the floor. “Whatever we’re going to do, better hurry it up,” he says, wiping the sword on his pants. He adjusts his glasses with his free hand, keeping them perched on his nose so they don’t fall down. Just because Ishara’s power doesn’t work on us doesn’t mean ours couldn’t potentially harm her. I agree with being prudent.
“We’re going to talk to the source,” I decide aloud. “To do that, we need the death stone.” It’s a long shot that Ishara or Jasper knows where it is, but I still wish to exhaust all options before going with my emergency plan.
A magic-powered remote is in my pocket and one click would solve our problems.
It would also come with consequences I’m not yet ready to share with my fated mate. If she knows what I’m capable of, she might reject me.
But if that protects her, it’s a risk I’m willing to take.
“Death stone?” Issy says. I turn to find her fully dressed and somehow even more beautiful than before.
The dress suits her well. A gossamer layer of silk hugs her curves, leaving her pointed nipples completely visible to guide my view.
I can see why Zyran chose this dress.
“It’s how we communicate with Daithi,” I tell her.
She blinks at me a few times. “But Fallon destroyed it.”
Right, there was one in the death plane that was eliminated. While that caused some problems with the death stone we had on our end, it was just a matter of time for it to rebuild. Both sides have to be obliterated for it to truly cease to exist.
I shake my head while Zyran dispatches another wave of corpses. A spattering of gunfire warns me that we definitely don’t have much time now.
Daithi’s dead are learning.
“It’s too much to explain now, but no. It’s not destroyed.”
Ishara surprises me by running to me and clasping my shirt in her tiny fists. I can see now that she’s been fighting the fated-mate allure harder than the rest of us. There are three of us in the room. I can’t imagine the impact that might be having on her to complete the bonds and make them permanent. Fate doesn’t hold back when it chooses soul mates.
