THE UNBRIDLED RAGE OF MY Ink took control of my body, chained to the wall. The snake moved across my skin in a violent dance, burning my flesh, pulling at my muscles and skin. The anger was so intense, it was as if my body would implode. Pulsing. Expanding.
The Ink’s destruction was about taking control of me, needing my body and my mind. He had my body, but I’d fight for my fuckin’ mind. If he took my mind, there was no possibility he’d be able to unlock the chains.
When the Ink finally lay silent once more, I hung limp, panting, for several minutes, then used my mind to unlock the manacles on my wrists.
The chains dropped with a loud clang to the cement floor, and I fell to my knees.
I reached into my pocket, took out my candy dispenser, and spilled two pills into my palm. I stared at them, contemplating. What Delara asked was impossible. The anger ate at everything inside of me. The diazepam soothed my Ink. I needed it. I needed to be numb.
I had them halfway to my mouth before I threw them against the wall.
Fuck. I bowed my head, hand curling around the container until it crushed into pieces. I let them and the rest of the pills slip to the floor.
I fuckin’ loved her. The pills helped numb the pain of losing her, but I’d never stop loving her.
If the Wraiths ripped away my Taldeburu, I’d always protect the Scars, with or without it. I’d lose my ability to Trace and sit on council, but if I lost Delara I had nothing, and none of it mattered.
Just her.
And she needed to see who I was. Who I’d become.
There was a chance I’d lose her, but hadn’t I lost her already? I had to trust that despite my Ink, I’d never physically harm the one woman I loved, even if my Ink had control of my body.
Trust myself. Trust Delara to love me without the pills, and with a crazed Ink inside me.
I’d fight my worst enemy for her. I’d die for her. Now, my worst enemy was inside me and this was our last chance.
The moment I Traced to Xamien’s house, I knew something was off. The air was still and heavy as if… it was as if death hung in the air.
My chest constricted and a cold dread crept over me as I entered the library where I heard subtle breaths and heartbeats.
I opened the door, my eyes landing on Xamien’s butler, Glunk, standing near the desk, and the Scar, Max, who stood in the corner of the room, head bowed and hands clasped together in front of her. “Where are Xamien and his brother?”
Glunk’s eyes shifted to Max briefly before he spoke. “Damien released Abby and she is gone. Damien left with Jasper. I know not where they’ve gone.” Glunk’s hand rested on the cover of a large, leather book—a grimoire.
“Xamien’s gone after them?” I asked.
“No, sir, he Traced to the Realm,” Max said in a soft honey voice.
I was surprised she spoke at all. I’d only met her once, when I’d brought Abby here, and she’d disappeared and hadn’t said a word when we were introduced. “Why the hell would he go to the Realm?”
“Edan, sir.” I stiffened. “He Traced here.” What the fuck? Edan? Had Edan come here thinking Delara was still here? “But he was drugged and could barely stand. He said he tried to reach you, but couldn’t.” Because I’d been chained to a fuckin’ wall. “So he came here to see Xamien. He said something about the Wraiths being wrong.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
My cell vibrated and I yanked it out of my pocket and glanced at the display—Zurina. “Yes?”
“Delara is no longer yours, Waleron. Tarek was always meant to have her and she belongs to him.”
Zurina’s voice drummed into my soul as she spoke. Every syllable fragmented pieces of me. Even if I’d wanted to speak, I couldn’t. It was as if she were slowly squeezing my heart and blood dripped through the cracks in her fingers.
“She isn’t coming back this time. Let her go and I will make sure the Wraiths do not take away your Taldeburu.”
The phone went dead.
I bled. I fuckin’ bled.
My lungs froze, unable to find breath. My blood rushed like a violent river through my veins as fear slammed through me.
No. Fuck no.
The phone dropped from my hand and I stumbled backward until my spine hit the doorframe. My Ink awakened again as the rage and fear and insurmountable grief took hold of me.
No. Impossible. I’d done everything to keep her safe.
But I’d delivered Delara right into Zurina’s waiting arms—to Tarek.
Jesus Christ. She’d betrayed me. Us. Everyone.
“Fuuuucckkkk,” I roared as I slammed both fists into the wall again and again. “Noooo.”
My Ink thundered across my skin, the burn and pain more intense than ever. It was crazed as it tried to overtake me, its scream to be freed piercing.
Maitagarri.
“Stay alive, baby. You fuckin’ stay alive. Don’t you dare leave me.” The words were lost in the abyss, because there was no chance she’d hear me.
I jerked when a female hand touched my bicep. I swung around, my instinctive reaction to a woman’s touch was for violence, and I grabbed Max’s wrist to throw it off me when coolness invaded my body.
What the hell?
Soothing calm settled over my body, my mind, healing the rage so it lay smothered beneath a blanket of snow. The snake hissed, its forked tongue and fanged teeth revealed as it fought against the cold.
I met Max’s eyes as her fingers rested gently on my arm. She jerked her gaze to my Ink and her eyes narrowed while her grip tightened. I felt the snake slither back to its resting place.
Max dropped her hand from me. Jesus Christ. A Healer with the gift of communicating with Ink. I’d never heard of one before, but that’s exactly what she’d done. She’d spoken to my Ink and calmed it.
She stepped away from me and bowed her head again.
I ran my hand over the top of my head. “Zurina took Delara from the Realm. Tarek now has her.” My voice was ragged and broken.
Glunk still held the grimoire. It was ancient, covered in dust, and the leather casing was cracked along the seams. “Edan said Zurina was responsible. Xamien went to search for her. I’ve been attempting to contact Delara, but it’s been hours and nothing. I cannot reach her telepathically, but,” he patted the book, “I thought I’d be able to with a spell.”
I glanced briefly at the grimoire’s spine—Dreamstepping. “Do it.” She wasn’t dead. I’d know if she was. I’d feel it. Even in Jasmine’s underground cage, I’d always known Delara lived.
“I tried. I cannot connect with her.” Glunk glanced at Max. Her eyes held his for several seconds then turned to me, steady and calm. Her body language read submission, yet nothing in the woman staring at me was fearful.
“It appears, sir, the link isn’t strong enough,” Max said, her voice steady and her eyes unwavering. “It must be Xamien who does it.”
Glunk continued, “They’ve shared mindweaving on numerous occasions. Their link will be strong enough no matter where she is.”
“And if she’s unconscious or dying?” The words tore through my vocal chords. Focus. Control. Don’t give up. Never give up on her.
But I had—I’d given up on us a long time ago. I’d pushed her away. Hurt her. I’d kept her on a long leash, but never unclipped it, just as Anstice once told me.
I’d kept her at a distance. Now the distance was so great that I may never be able to get her back. God, what had I done? I’d destroyed us.
I walked toward Glunk.
He straightened. “When I tried to reach her there was an ominous cloud over her.” He dropped the book on the desk and flipped through pages until he came to one. He tapped his finger. “It says right here, ‘Reaching another in an unconscious state through a dark cloud of mist. Do not go further or you will join them in the state of lifelessness.’” I placed my hand flat on the desk and leaned over, reading the words while Glunk explained. “I pushed further to try and reach her, but….” Glunk raised his head. “I felt the cloud, sir. It was brief, maybe a second or two, but if she were dead—you cannot reach the dead in Dreamstepping.”
“What do you need?”
“Xamien. And he will need as much of her as possible. Any personal effects and perhaps others who are close to her.”
“Then you will fly to Toronto immediately.”
Glunk raised his brows and the right side of his mouth lifted in a mischievous smirk. “No worries, sir. I will Trace there.”
Before I had the chance to react to Glunk’s revelation, he was gone is a swirl of red mist. I turned to Max. “I assume Xamien knows about Glunk’s ability to Trace?”
Max nodded.
“Is there anything else I should be aware of?”
“Sir, you will have to ask Xamien that question.”
Of course, her loyalty would be to the man who’d saved her life. I glowered, but she refused to cower. The girl was a hell of a lot more than any of us knew.
And so was Xamien’s fuckin’ butler. Jesus.
Her chin rose. “Sir, Delara is a survivor.” She nodded to my Ink. “He hurts. Just as you do. Give him what he wants.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Max’s eyes shone for a brief second. “He wants her.” Max quietly left.
Delara? My Ink fed off my rage. I was forced to keep it calm with pills, but all it wanted was her?
My Ink wanted Delara.