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Backing away from the desk, I lose my balance and catch myself on the edge of the bookcase—the one by the window, but it isn’t my reflection I see in the glass pane.
“Rathmann,” I growl, reaching down to throw the window open. I want to tear the smug look right off his face, but the window is locked. Frustrated, I touch the metal lock—and hiss at the white hot pain erupting along my fingers. The metal is red, glowing, and hot as fuck. Blisters swell on my fingertips, and I snap my eyes back to Rathmann.
His smirk grows as he dangles something from his hand. Dark shadows dance under his eyes. Squinting into the night, I try to make out what he’s holding… A raven, limp and swaying, hangs from his hard grip on the bird’s feet—dead. Blood runs over his fingers, trailing down the bird’s black feathers and dripping off its beak. Rage boils inside me at the image of Kaylus’s body in this asshole’s hand. Rathmann laughs, the smudges of blood and the talon scratches on his cheeks stretching.
A woman’s scream echoes around me, and my blood runs cold, the cord in my chest tugging taut.
Adara.
Without a thought, I throw my elbow through the glass, trying to escape and save her. She has to be in trouble. Rathmann must have someone out there, someone who got to her while he—-
Smoke billows into my office through the hole I’ve made, and I stagger back, coughing and waving my hand in front of my face, but the smoke chokes me, relentless. Turning around, I bolt to the office door, but the minute I grab the doorknob, the metal sears into my palm. Snarling, I kick the door open, holding my hand to my chest and cursing whatever magic this is that’s causing these burns.
“Fuck,” I whisper, frantically searching the bar, but the dense crowd is hazy—and panicked.
“Gideon!” Frank yells from the other end of the bar.
The bar is in an uproar, people screaming as flames lick at the walls all around, blocking every exit. Wood beams creak and snap beneath the bright orange flames, and I dive forward, knocking Mila out of the way of a falling piece of the ceiling. Tears trail through the soot covering her face, and I yell for Frank as he barrels through the crowd to us. He gathers Mila in his arms, swiping his thumbs across her cheeks to wipe away her tears, and I have to look away, guilt and jealousy warring inside me. I’ve done this—I brought this death to my pack’s front door by protecting her, protecting Adara.
I have to find her.
I rush behind the bar, grabbing the crowbar I keep hidden under the liquor shelves and opening a hidden door in the floorboards. Why didn’t Frank do this already? I curse under my breath as I reach in to grab the two fire extinguishers I have stashed away down there, but my hand touches nothing but air. Pushing back the questions in my mind, I move forward to open the damn doors. I throw the crowbar into the crack between the metal doors, busting open one side, then the other. Smoke follows me out the door as I stumble outside, followed by waves of people stampeding out of the burning building.
Coughing, my eyes burning, I search for Adara. Of all the times, why is my wolf silent now? Why can’t I feel her?
I bolt around the building, keeping my distance from the popping embers as the flames eat away at my bar, and find Rathmann laying on the ground—Adara standing above him. The councilman’s face is soaked in blood, his clothes on fire as he screams—the sound like knives in my ears. Flames lick at Adara’s arms, her hair floating around her head as if she were underwater, the tips a flickering orange like the embers of a fire.
A hoarse scream bursts from her lips, and she holds her flame-laced palms out to Rathmann, who scoots back on the ground, terror painting his face. “Please,” he rasps. “Please! Don’t!”
“You don’t get to ask me favors, wolf!” she hisses, and even her voice is different, crackling and haunting.
Another beam snaps in the bar, and I duck my head at the noise, finally breaking from my trance. “Adara, wait!” I yell.
Her face snaps toward me, and my heart stops. Her eyes—usually violet as a dark twilight sky or silver like the stars above—now glow, flames licking the black pits of her pupils.
I jolt awake, my hand flying to my chest. My heart hammers against my palm.
It was just a dream. A dream… more like a gods damn nightmare.
Right, just a dream,my wolf says sarcastically.
“I can’t deal with you right now,” I mumble under my breath, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and resting my head in my hands. My body still trembles, and the sheets are sticking to me, soaked in sweat. I focus on my breathing, forcing the image of Adara, consumed by fire magic, out of my mind. After a few unsuccessful attempts to clear my head, I shove up from the bed and walk out of my room. I briefly pause by her door again, almost needing to check to make sure she’s safe—in her bed and safe from her magic—but I shake my head. Black pits where eyes should be, filled with a raging fire, blink across my mind’s eye, and I stumble away from her door. I make my way downstairs, running into the woods, stripping my sweatpants off as I go.
A run will do me some good to clear my head.
Chapter five
Adara
I hold my breath as I hear Gideon’s door open not long after he shut it. His footsteps pad down the hall and pause before my door, just as he did when he went into his room. A part of me wishes he would just open the door and come in here—whether to kiss me or talk to me, I don’t care. After the way he shut me out at dinner, I’m struggling against the urge to go to him. Is he okay? Did something happen at the council meeting that he didn’t tell me about?
But when he got home from that meeting, he was fine. He was… normal, affectionate,hot. I lift my hands and cover my face. When did I start thinking of that as normal? And when did I start wanting him to touch me the way he did tonight despite the risks, the obvious trouble that it’d be asking for?
But the way he looked at me at the table—with mistrust and fear—breaks my heart again just remembering it. All the warmth had left my body when he pulled his hand from mine, and I hate that. I never wanted to like him, let alone be his mate. The only way this will end is in pain—Monique will make sure of that, not to mention the wolf councilandmy coven. Was Monique right about Batya’s prophecy? But how could I reign over everyone when I can’t control either of my powers, let alone be powerful enough to make anyone listen to me?
Sighing, I roll over and face the window. I left it cracked open so Kaylus could fly in to the nest I made him beside the bed. I reach out and stroke along his sleek feathers, smiling at the thought that he can finally be a true familiar—one that never leaves my side, morning or night, instead of being cast outside into the shadows, a hidden secret. My gaze travels down to the nightstand, the square silver device sitting there. Chloe, Monique’s office assistant, had sent it back with Kaylus last night, instructing him to not give it to me until I was alone. It has a small window where texts can appear. If I hold it in my hands and concentrate on the message I want to send, it’ll absorb that through the enchantment seared into it, then send it to the sibling device that Jules has.
Safe, she wrote to me.Love you.
