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“About thirty seconds.” Atlas’s hand trails down my arm, seeking my bare skin as though he’s convincing himself I’m really here. I don’t think he realises he’s doing it, though, his eyes locked on my face. “The only reason I wasn’t freaking out was because Ivar wasn’t,” Atlas explains.
“Ivar is the creepy witch?” Joel clarifies, and Atlas nods his agreement.
Scott looks a little confused by this exchange, but I understand why Atlas said what he did. Ivar wouldn’t let anything harmful happen to the queen, including me invading her mind, which means that he knew what was happening, or at least suspected it. Atlas knows this, and somehow Joel picked up on it too.
“What happened, mate?” my alpha asks, the term of endearment making my heart flutter. Ignoring the urge to smile goofily and preen, I clear my mind and try to come up with an explanation that makes sense.
Unfortunately, this is harder than I expected. Sighing, I rub my fingers against my temple to ease the tension headache building there. “When the queen touched me, my magic just… reacted.” That’s an understatement, but I lack the words to explain it otherwise. My power hated being touched by her and was like a living creature within me, seeming to revolt and blast out before she could use her own magic on me.
“I think I was in her mind,” I whisper, afraid of their reactions, but I don’t let myself turn away. I meet each of their unflinching gazes, finding surprise and confusion—not that I blame them for this, since I’ve never shown any sign of being able to do anything like this before. I’m still getting over my own shock. Encouraged that none of them are going to condemn me for this, I take a deep, shaky breath and continue. “I saw a memory of her and my mother from before I was born.”
I fill them in on the rest of what I saw, recalling every detail I could remember about the vision. They listen with rapt attention, no one saying a word until I finish speaking. When Joel shifts his weight from foot to foot, I know he’s unsure about what he’s about to ask. My alpha mate isn’t one to shuffle or move around unnecessarily, his every move filled with purpose, so this isn’t behaviour I’d usually expect from him. Preparing myself for whatever is about to come next, I lift my gaze to his.
“You’re sure what you saw was real?” There’s no accusation behind his question, and his eyes are steady on me as he waits for my reaction. Now I understand why he seemed uncomfortable to ask this, not wanting me to misconstrue his reasoning behind it.
His side of the bond reaches out to me like a gentle caress, and I sense his utter conviction and support. This isn’t him questioning me or implying that I don’t know what I really saw. None of them were able to witness the vision, only see the physical reactions of myself and the queen and feel through the bonds. He trusts me and will take my word as truth if I assure him that I wasn’t tricked. I learned about witches much later than most werewolves, and that was due to the secrecy of my reclusive pack, but from what I’ve been told by the others, it’s drilled into them from an early age that witches are master manipulators. This is new magic to me, so it’s easy to understand why he might question if there’s some treachery at play here.
Holding my head high, I dip my chin once. “Yes.”
I don’t need to say anything else, because Joel accepts that one simple word with a quick nod. Atlas glances at the large alpha before looking back at me with contemplation. His hand still touches my arm so gently that it could almost be written off as an accidental brush, yet it continues, my skin tingling with desire.
“It’s almost impossible to lie via memory, and I saw the queen’s surprise. She had no idea what happened.”
I force myself to process his words. This is important, and I need to focus so I can learn everything I can about what happened. My instincts told me that what I saw wasn’t deception and actually a true memory, so hearing Atlas’s comment only validates this.
Reaching up, he takes my hand from where I’m still massaging my temples and threads his fingers through mine. There’s a subtle shift in his expression, and my stomach clenches in anticipation. He has more to tell me, and it’s not good news.
“She knows about memory readers, but they are so rare that we’ve only seen two of them in the last century—not to mention it’s a difficult gift to use, and you’ve had next to no training in controlling your magic. It makes sense that she hasn’t suspected you of this, and it’s a blessing we should all be glad of.”
Memory readers. The name rings as truthful in my mind. Is that what I am? On top of my star magic, it seems impossible that I would have another rare type of magic. Anticipation strikes, and I can’t help but wonder if this is a blessing or a curse. Sensing this, Joel places his hand on my lower back, rubbing in small circles to help ground me, silently reassuring me. Atlas’s eyes keep flittering across my face, trying to gauge how I’m coping with this new information.
“There’s a name for what happened?” Scott asks quietly, unaware of my inner turmoil.
Reluctantly, Atlas glances at Scott. “Yes. I suspected when I saw it, but I couldn’t be sure until Laelia described what transpired.” Eyes on me once more, he reaches out and brushes a fallen strand of hair back from my face and tucks it behind my ear. “You’re a memory reader.” Pride, astonishment, and fear filter through the bond, the emotions switching so fast that it’s difficult to focus on them, especially when his face remains a mask of calm concern. “The queen can’t know about this,” he warns, and I know he’s making sure Joel and Scott understand. “She would kill you if she realised that you could walk into her mind and take whatever memories you felt like.”
My eyes widen at the word “take,” and the implications start to build in my mind. Is he really saying that I can collect memories from others, or am I focusing too much on that one word? I just learned that I can read memories, so I shouldn’t be trying to catastrophise by taking on extra issues. As it is, my new skill is just another reason for the queen to try and kill me. Star growls at my side, letting me know she’s not going to let that happen anytime soon, a sentiment that’s echoed by the low rumble in Joel’s chest. My protective mate is struggling, knowing that I’m constantly in danger and under threat here, and this isn’t helping. Atlas’s hand grazes against mine once more, and I realise that Joel isn’t my only mate who is finding this difficult, which means that Syn and Nicolai are probably suffering too. I need to see them and make sure they are okay.
Sensing my unasked question, Atlas nods with a grim twist of his mouth. “Yes, you can steal memories too.” With his free hand, he reaches up and runs it through his dark hair, messing up his usually neat style, telling me that he’s more worked up by this than he’s letting on. “Centuries ago, memory readers used to be killed as soon as the skill surfaced. It was too risky to have them around the monarchy and able to manipulate people. Honestly, given the young age that the last reader died at, I think foul play was involved.”
A heavy silence falls over us as we contemplate what he’s saying. Am I surprised by his quiet accusation? No. I’m sure the queen would kill me on the spot if she knew, and learning that others with the same gift have died suspiciously only confirms that feeling.
“You’re right,” Joel mutters behind me, his voice low and guttural with his protective instincts running high. “The queen can never know.”
Feeling overwhelmed, I take a small step away from the three of them, just needing to focus for a moment—something that’s impossible to do with them touching me. A shudder runs through me, and I wrap my arms around my middle, rubbing my hands up and down in an effort to fight the sudden cold feeling that fills me at this new information. Attempting to keep my eyes from the three of them, I focus on my breathing in an effort to clear my mind, but it seems to be an impossible task with their feelings practically blasting through the bond. They want to support me, to pull me against them and comfort me with their touch, even Scott looks edgy, watching my movements with an intense stare.
There’s been next to no time for me to process everything that’s happened, and I still can’t believe Joel and Scott are actually here. Other than that short time after it was announced I’d be taking part in challenges to prove myself, I’ve spent no time with them alone, and the bond between Joel and me is straining. Atlas’s bond is still unfinished, and I know it won’t be long until we have to make a decision. Reaching out to check in with my other mates, I find that Syn is pacing, his need to get to me causing him to walk the edge between sanity and madness once more. It’s my bond with Nicolai that concerns me the most though. I can hardly feel it at all, and when I reach for it, it’s like sand trailing through my fingers, impossible to hold onto.
Feeling the need of my mates breaks through my staggering confusion, giving me focus and purpose. My head jerks up, and I meet each of their gazes, letting them see the determination in my eyes. I’m still a fragile mess of emotions, but I’m needed, and that’s more important.
I turn to Atlas. “I need to see Nicolai and Syn.”
He doesn’t argue, gesturing for me to follow him, but I can feel his disappointment. I can’t quite figure out why. He knew about my other mates and has met them, so I don’t understand why me requesting to see them is a blow to him, and it feels like a setback between us. I don’t have the time or mental capacity to face that now, though, but I make a note to speak to him when things calm down.
It doesn’t take long for the four of us to reach Nicolai’s room, the guards at the end of the corridor all but ignoring us as we pass. The additional two guards by the door pay us a little more attention, the one on the left even dipping his head in greeting to Atlas.
Remembering the last time I was here and how manic my mate seemed, I listen carefully before I knock on his door. It’s loud and echoes through the corridor, but it’s only met with silence. Clearing my throat, I try again.
“Nicolai,” I call, my knocks softer now so he knows it’s me.
