“What is it?”

“It’s from Fee,” he says.

As suspected. “For me?”

He shakes his head. “No, for me. She needs me.”

I can’t help the stab of jealousy that pricks at my chest. “Does she say what for?”

“No.”

I know Fee wouldn’t message unless it was urgent. “Go.”

He looks momentarily torn, and I want to slap him. “This is Fee we’re talking about. If she’d called me, I’d already be gone.”

“But she didn’t call you. She called me, and weren’t you just saying we needed to think like generals. Didn’t you just say Azazel was thinking like a son.”

I know where he’s going with this, and I stop him with a look. “You can be back by sundown tomorrow, and I can hold the fort until then. Your absence at this moment won’t turn the tide in Mammon’s favor. Look around, he’s already done that.”

Conah tucks the scroll into his belt. “Fine. I’ll go help Fee, and you speak to Azazel, and when I get back, we’ll make a new plan, one where we strike back at the bastard that did this.”

Chapter Thirty

Grayson

Fee’s breathing grows even and heavy as she slips into slumber on my lap. I cradle her to me and kiss her head.

She smells of strawberries, which is perfect. If she’d come back smelling of the celestial, I might have lost my shit.

He’s a good guy. A decent guy, and I know he’ll be good for her, but I can’t help but wish I could keep her to myself.

Mine.

It’s the nature of the beast.

I’ll have to share her with Hunter soon, too, which makes me tense up. Knowing my twin isn’t a sociopathic asshole is one thing, but having a connection to him is another. I’ll need to learn to like him. I’ll need to learn to accept him. For the Tribus. For Fee.

It won’t be easy, but I’ll do it for my mate.

I’ll do anything for her, and I can’t lose her. It’ll break me.

She moans softly in her sleep and rubs her cheek against my chest. Her hand is on my abdomen, and it curls into a fist now. I stroke her arm and kiss her head again to soothe the bad dreams.

“You’re okay, Fee. I’ve got you.”

Long minutes slip by where the only sounds are the clatter of pans as Bobby cooks, and then Fee’s breathing grows shallower and faster.

“Hush, it’s okay.” I hold her tighter to lend her a feeling of security, and it seems to work.

Her breathing slows, but as I relax my hold on her, she arches suddenly, smacking her head against my chin.

Her eyes open, wide but unseeing.

“Fee? Fee?” I grip her shoulders.

She ignores me, glancing about. “Where is it. Quick, I need to find it.”

“Fee, wake up.” I shake her.

“Where is it?” For a moment, I think she’s looking right at me, but then a film falls over her vision again. “I need to—”

She cries out and slumps against me.

“Fuck.”

Bobby has rushed over and is standing a few feet away, ready to assist if need be.

“I think we’re okay.” I nod at him. “I think it’s ov—”

Fee tears out of my grip and runs into the kitchen. I’m already in motion, but she has a knife at her throat before I can get to her, and when she locks gazes with me, it isn’t her looking back. It’s something else. Something cold and alien.

The tendons in her arm flex in preparation to draw the blade across her throat. I hear Bobby’s cry of alarm and sense the presence of my pack as they rush to the lounge, alerted by their alpha’s distress, but I know I won’t make it to her in time.

I know I’m about to lose her because a wound like the one she’s about to inflict won’t heal in time, not for a Loup, and not even for a Dominus. But still, I try, leaping toward her, hands outstretched to stop her.

The blade drags across her flesh, leaving a bloody trail in its wake, and then a body blocks my path, and I skid to a halt.

Golden hair and the scent of a foreign ozone.

Conah.

There’s a clink as the knife falls to the ground, and then Fee’s scream of impotent rage fills the room.

Conah turns to face me, holding her to his chest in a vise-like grip, his expression stunned shock that clearly says, what the actual fuck.

She thrashes and gnashes her teeth, wild and feral. “No. No. My time. Mine!”

“Fee!” My voice is a whiplash. A command from an alpha to his mate.

She stills, and then her eyes flutter closed, and she slumps forward in Conah’s arms.

We stand, face to face, chests heaving, surrounded by my pack, and then Conah finally breaks the silence.

“Grayson, what the fuck is going on?”

Chapter Thirty-One

Fee

Waking up was like swimming through treacle. Confusion clouded my mind, leaving it sluggish. There were voices, people. I knew these people.

“How long?” Conah asked.

“Ever since you three left for the Underealm,” Grayson replied. “Uri saved her.”

“When she jumped?”

“Yes.”

“And this heart stopping is the only solution?”

“The only one we have, and we’re short on time,” Grayson replied.

A female voice joined in. One I recognized as Petra. “She used a knife, which means the curse is gaining more control. Up until now, it simply managed to get her to a ledge and try and make her walk off. Making her use a blade to slit her throat shows much more control.”

“It was as if she was someone else,” Grayson said. “I looked into her eyes, and she wasn’t there.”

I forced my eyelids open, dragging myself out of the arms of sleep. “It happened again, didn’t it?”

I focused on the faces around my room. Grayson sat on the bed by my hip, Petra stood by the dresser, and…Yes, that was Conah by the window. He’d come.

“What did I do?”

“You tried to slit your throat,” Conah said. “I got here in time to stop you.”

“I wouldn’t have made it to you in time.” Grayson’s tone was low, his voice hoarse as if he’d been crying, but Grayson wouldn’t cry…would he? “You would have bled out.”

There was torment in his eyes that I desperately wanted to soothe. “I’m fine, though. I’m okay.” I took his hand. His fingers were cold to the touch. Chilled. “Grayson?” He made a strangled sound and then pulled me into his arms, breathing me in. “I’m fine.”

I caught sight of Conah’s face over Grayson’s shoulder, and I knew that look. It was a we-just-escaped-a-fucking-dire-situation look.

I’d tried to slit my throat… I felt the tightness on my neck for the first time. “How bad was it?”

Grayson kissed the spot by my ear and then pulled back. The tears in his eyes were a slug to my chest because Grayson didn’t cry. I mean, I’d never seen him lose his shit. This must have been a close call. Right in front of him. If Conah hadn’t turned up…

I reached up to touch the dressing that was pressed to my skin.

“It’s healing,” Petra said. “It was deep. You were lucky you didn’t nick your artery.”

“Lucky? I’m sorry.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. Sorry felt right.

“It’s not your fault,” Grayson said. “Fuck, Fee, none of this is your fault.”

“No, it isn’t.” Petra handed me something…My journal. “We found this open on the floor. You should read it.”

“My journal? But I haven’t written in it yet.”

“Please,” she said.

A shiver rushed up my spine to settle at the nape of my neck as I took the open journal from her. All eyes were on me as I looked down at the marred pages. The writing was a scrawl, overly large and rushed, but there was no mistake…this was my handwriting. I scanned the short sentences, repeated over and over.

Can’t let him out.

Can’t set him free.

Must not let him out.

Must not let him wake.

And amidst it all, one word was scribbled across the page almost angrily.

Purgatory

There was that scratching at the back of my mind again, that feeling there was something vital I was forgetting. I focused on the sensation, trying to tease it to the forefront of my mind. A sharp pain lanced through my head. I cried out involuntarily and released the hidden thought. My temples throbbed as the pain eased.

“Fee, what is it?” Conah asked. “What happened in Purgatory?”

Yes…Something happened. Something…behind the wooden door…I went… Pain hit me again, claws unfurling in my brain, shredding and tearing.

“No!” I grabbed my head to stop it from exploding, and like before, the pain melted. “I can’t…Every time I think about it, there’s pain.”

“A hidden memory,” Conah said. “Probably a block placed by whoever put this curse on you.”

Was this the key to what was happening to me? To this curse placed on me? “Can you remove it? Can you get to the memory?”

“I can try.”

He stepped forward, and Grayson released me and climbed off the bed so Conah could take his place.

Conah sat facing me, his hip by my thighs. “Close your eyes and relax.”

I snorted. “Closing my eyes and relaxing is a huge problem right now.”

But I did as he asked.

His fingers were cool and firm on my temple. “Relax,” he repeated. “This won’t hurt.”

Long seconds ticked by, and then pressure bloomed at the back of my skull. A strange vibration filled my head, and then there was a crack like thunder, and the pressure of Conah’s fingers was gone.

Petra cried out in alarm, and my eyes snapped open to find the space where Conah had been a moment ago empty. My Dominus friend was crumpled on the floor against the far wall of the room.