“What will you say to Arion at the end of the night? If you’re planning to reject him, I’m afraid you’ve sent some severely mixed signals today,” he says in a quiet tone that’s barely above a whisper.

Before I can answer, Emit ducks inside, eyes narrowing when he spots us. He sniffs the air, rolls his eyes, and crosses his arms over his chest.

“You’re about to deliver bad news after getting bent about us fucking Violet without you,” Damien guesses. “Skip the griping and just tell me the bad news.”

“Violet, can you give us a minute?” Emit asks.

“She’s your mate, and she’s my Flame. This is about Vance, isn’t it?” Damien asks, sending my stomach into a tight knot. “What’s wrong?”

Emit’s lips tighten, and his gaze flicks to mine.

“Don’t panic,” he tells me, which of course makes me start panicking.

A little.

Not enough to go monster and accidentally kill everyone, but I’m definitely still panicking.

“I’m good,” I assure him when he keeps watching like he’s waiting on me to steel my nerves.

His gaze stays on me, even though I can tell he’s mostly speaking to Damien.

“Vance hasn’t returned, and he hasn’t checked in. The chopper never saw him leave the cemetery, but after the fifth missed check-in time, they finally went in. The cemetery was empty, and not even the best trackers among the Van Helsings have been able to catch even a hint of a trail.”

“Damn fucking loops. Everyone really does know about them,” Damien says too calmly, as I work harder and harder to not panic.

They make it seem like it’s no big deal when one of them goes missing. Maybe Emit was right. I should have left the tent.

“No loops,” Emit says, causing Damien’s brow to furrow. “No trail at all, Damien.”

“How is that even possible?” Damien asks, straightening away from me and taking this more seriously.

“I don’t know. But for now, there’s absolutely no way to track him. I think we need to prepare ourselves.”

Damien’s eyes shut, and my heartbeat begins drumming loudly in my ears, as my vision dims and returns several consecutive times.

“If Pandora has taken him, that can only mean she’s taken Idun’s side, and the war has begun,” Emit continues, as my hands begin to shake.

“He’s not dead, Violet,” Damien says, his hand coming to my cheek.

My breaths are sharp and short, as he talks gently to me, clearly treating me like a cornered animal.

Probably smart.

“W-w-where was he last?” I ask, my breaths and voice shaky.

“The dragon’s cemetery,” they both answer.

“Of course,” I say as though that makes perfect sense. “And the dragon’s cemetery is a euphemism for what?”

They both stare at me, looking mildly uncomfortable, as though they don’t want to tell me there is no euphemism and an oops-have-we-never-told-you-about-dragons-before expression.

Awesome.

“So there are dead dragons—”

“Dragon,” Emit is quick to amend, smiling tightly. “There was only ever one.”

“Well, that changes everything,” the triplets say as they pop in to roll their eyes. “Do you think a dragon really breathes fire?” they muse.

Ignoring them, I keep my attention on Emit and Damien, who continue to stare at me like they’re waiting on that to sink in.

“So there’s a dead dragon…and Vance went to its graveyard to meet Pandora. Sounds brilliant. Why would Vance do something that bold? What does an alleged dragon carcass have to do with anything? Didn’t you all say that Pandora could be dangerous? I thought Pandora loved Bobo and got mad at Idun,” I ramble in spitfire fashion, not sounding calm at all, even though I’m trying really, really hard to do just that.

“It’s nothing more than some impressive bones. No carcass,” Damien says like he’s somehow being reassuring.

“Breathe, Violet,” Emit says, gently pulling me to him with my back to his front.

His breath heats my ear when he leans down, and he puts his hand over my chest.

“Breathe and stay calm. Remember that he can’t stay dead,” he says, also trying to sound reassuring.

My eyes burn, and my breaths get shorter. I force myself not to cry or freak out, because they have enough to deal with right now. Me freaking out will definitely make this worse and distract them from finding Vance.

“He’s not dead?” I ask, needing confirmation on that.

“He’s not dead. Zuela would inform us if something else was true,” Emit says, pressing in on my chest, and then releasing it. “Breathe.”

Taking several steadier, deep breaths, I suck back the tears the best I can, nodding for no reason.

“Okay,” I say on a shaky breath, gently pushing away and pulling my mascot uniform back on.

“Can you act unbothered, Violet? If Idun sees or senses your weakness, she’ll likely end his life. If she thinks you’re unaware—”

“She’ll cat-and-mouse it until it’s not fun anymore. Got it. She’s simply waiting on someone to confront her and ask where he is.”

I nod again, my hands not steadying.

I see them, but it’s almost a blur. Everything is a blur.

It feels as though I’ve been yanked back to stare on at the scene. From sublimely happy to anticipating devastation in less than a few short seconds.

“This is war, Violet. Now it begins. It’s one big game to her, and she spares very little mercy. It’s been more severe than you’ve been able to understand, and it’s too late to turn back now, sweet monster. You’re going to need to get much tougher for a little while, and for that, I apologize in advance,” Emit says, cupping my cheeks with both his hands and forcing me to look at him. “Please don’t let her crush you with the very first blow.”

I expected claws and bite.

I expected head games and verbal sniping.

I expected her to be more vicious toward me.

I don’t know what I expected. It’s like stumbling onto a battlefield for the first time and not realizing someone’s already pulled the trigger while you’ve been waiting for the first shot.

It’s exactly how they likely felt after standing around watching Idun TV.

“Everyone knew losing Arion would be the hardest for her, even though she treated him the worst,” I mutter to myself. “And Vance still went to meet with Pandora—today of all days.”

“Now that he’s been captured, it’s easy to look back and see it as a trap,” Damien says, exhaling harshly. “It was a risk that had to be taken. I’ll be back. I need to find Zuela.”

As soon as Damien exits, a sob tries to escape me. I manage to muffle it against my sleeve, feeling the tickle of fur against my lips.

Emit drags me to him, his arms curling around me, surrounding me as he holds me just as tight as I need him to. My cheek presses to his chest, and I inhale his woodsy scent. It actually is mildly calming, so I do it again.

And again.

And again.

I’m not sure how long we stand that way, but I don’t allow myself too long to be weak.