“We have twenty-four hours to rescue the students who’ve been taken.”

Morgan avoided looking at Kincade as she spoke to the guys in the main area of their barracks. She wasn’t ready to face him yet after the explosive kiss they shared. One look, and everyone would know what happened, and she wasn’t ready to deal with anything but the mission.

Draven narrowed his eyes on her, sensing what she wasn’t saying. “What happens after twenty-four hours?”

Morgan lifted her chin, swallowing back the turmoil churning in her gut. “I either turn myself over to my cousin, or he will kill all of them in my place.”

She would do what she must to save Ascher, Neil, and the rest of the students.

This was her fault.

If not for her cousin, none of this would have happened.

“Fuck.” Draven stood abruptly, his chair clattering to the floor as he began pacing. “I take it you have a plan? Because I’m not turning you over to that bastard.”

Morgan recognized the determination in their eyes.

The team would never allow her to surrender herself.

She needed to think of something brilliant, and soon, or the students’ deaths would be on her head.

“There is only one plan.” Morgan wouldn’t accept anything less. “We get back our people.”

Something kept pestering her about the attack, and she frowned as she tried to pin down what was bothering her. “Which brings up the question of how they managed to open three rifts in such a confined space.”

Kincade’s silence spoke volumes.

“You know something.”

“When we were clearing the auditorium, we found three witches with their throats slit. They weren’t even aware of anyone sneaking up behind them until it was too late. A sigil was carved into each of their foreheads.”

Morgan felt sick to her stomach. “Someone in the school is helping Ethan. Why?”

“Power.” Atlas gave her a cynical look, his expression softening a little when he spotted her confusion. “Why does your cousin want you so badly?”

Morgan didn’t want to tell them. She could handle being hunted wherever she went, looked at with either suspicion or avarice, but it would destroy her to have them look at her the same way.

“You have to tell them.” Kincade’s eyes were uncompromising.

Her throat ached, and she hated that he was right. She couldn’t ask them to risk their lives without telling them the truth. “He needs me to perform a ritual that will allow him to harvest my magic and open a rift between realms…a permanent bridge for an army to pass through.

“And he’s running out of time. He made promises, and if he doesn’t keep his end of the deal, the other supernaturals will take their anger out on him. If he can’t have me, he will kill everyone he captured in a last-ditch effort to open that bridge.”

“An invasion would mean outright war.” Even Atlas looked startled, maybe even a little impressed at Ethan’s ambition. “What does he hope to gain?”

“He’s been promised control of the primordial realm if he holds up his end of the bargain.”

Atlas nodded, as if it all made sense, while Ryder looked grim. Draven stared at her with dead eyes, a hardened warrior who knew they might not all survive. To her surprise, Kincade seemed unconcerned, determination burning in his eyes. To him, there was no acceptable outcome but winning the battle.

She envied him his confidence.

“If we’re going to attempt a rescue, we need to be prepared.” Kincade leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, staring down at his feet.

The starch wilted out of her spine, the weight threatening to crush her vanished, and she ducked her head when tears crowded her eyes.

He was going to help her.

They didn’t blame her for this mess.

They didn’t look at her like she was a threat.

Her throat tightened painfully, hardly daring to believe it, and she cleared her throat twice before she could speak. “What do you suggest?”

Kincade lifted his head, his gaze landing on each man. “I can’t order you to accompany us—”

“Shove it.” Draven picked up his chair, gripping the back of it. “Just tell us what you need.”

Kincade relaxed marginally, a pleased smile brightening his normally stoic expression. “We need to balance the scales.”

“You want to raid the armory.” Ryder rose to his feet, tying back his hair, drawing her gaze to the stunningly sculptured angles of his face. “I can get us the void weapons.”

They were talking about breaking into the armory and stealing them.

She was really starting to like these guys.

Everyone trooped toward the door.

“While you guys do that, I’ll talk to Harper.”

Morgan very nearly tripped over her own feet as she whirled to face Kincade. “What? Why?”

Possessiveness shattered every other thought in her head, and everything inside her protested the idea of Kincade going anywhere near that bitch. Black, ugly emotions consumed her, and the urge to rip the other girl’s throat out was nearly overwhelming.

He’s MINE.

She breathed heavily, trying to control her primitive instincts, and the oh, so tempting compulsion to kill.

“There are only a handful of witches at the school with the ability to open a portal, and the teachers are more apt to lock us up than help.” Kincade strode toward her, and every muscle in her body tightened with each word he spoke. “We need her help if you want Ascher back.”

It was all she could do not to growl at him. Her lungs felt tight, and she spoke past stiff lips. “I can open a portal.”

Kincade stopped in front of her, studying her face as if memorizing it. “I know you don’t want to ask for help, but it would take too long to train you. We need someone who knows how to control a rift, or we run the risk of become lost in the void. Are you willing to take the chance?”

No, she wasn’t.

Her magic was unpredictable at the best of times. She couldn’t risk anything happening to them over something as stupid as jealousy. “Fine, go to her.”

Before she could turn away, he grabbed her arm. “Guys, why don’t you head down for the weapons? Atlas, stay and guard the door. No one but us gets in or out.”

The men’s eyes ping-ponged back and forth between them, before they beat a hasty retreat. Morgan pulled away, crossing her arms protectively in front of her, still able to feel his touch, and wishing she didn’t want more. “What do you want?”

“How badly are you hurt?” His eyes were locked on the matted blood seeping through her pant leg and down the side of her shirt.

His eyes easily stripped her of clothing, and if she lied to him, she had no doubt he would put his thoughts into action, and she’d end up naked, so he could judge for himself. “I’m healing. Wrestling with the guys broke open some of the wounds.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, his hands fisted at his side, as if resisting the urge to touch her. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to enter the Primordial World while you’re bleeding. You’ll draw attention to us the second they catch the scent of your blood.”

Morgan dropped her arms to her sides and took a threatening step toward him. “No way in hell are you leaving me behind.”

Kincade wasn’t the least bit intimidated. Running a frustrated hand over his head, he studied her, his intelligent green eyes missing nothing. “You heal fast. Faster than anyone else. Why?”

Morgan stopped a foot away from him, halted by his question. “You think my magic can heal me?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” His attention came to rest on her throat.

When she brought up her hand, it landed on the torque.

“What would happen if you take the necklace off?”

The idea of removing it scared the shit out of her. She hadn’t been without it since she woke up in the forest nearly ten years ago. “I don’t know. Every time I remove it, my magic rises, but I’ve never kept it off for more than a minute or two at a time.”

Kincade reached out, then hesitated. “May I?”

Her stomach somersaulted, and she wasn’t sure if it was at the thought of removing the torque or in anticipation of his touch. She swallowed hard, hastily twisting her hair into a messy knot at the nape of her neck, then took a deep breath and nodded.

The brush of his fingertips against her throat sent her pulse skyrocketing, and her body tingled with anticipation of what he would do next. She gazed up at him to find his eyes dilated, his breathing accelerated, telling signs for a warrior trained to hide any revealing reactions. Then his brows lowered. “I can’t find the latch.”

Morgan blushed, having completely forgotten the purpose of his touch. “Uh…there isn’t one.”

She reached up and, much to her surprise, the metal came away in her hands, but when Kincade went to touch the limp metal strip, it curled its way around her wrist like a snake, the coils hardening around her arm in a spiral. The metal was surprisingly heavy, and her neck felt naked without the familiar weight.

“That’s amazing, not to mention a powerful tool.” He brushed his thumb over the silver bracelet, but it was only metal once more. “Where’d you get it?”

“No clue. I’ve had it for as long as I can remember.” The runes etched along her back warmed, and her heart sank at the familiar sensations. Knowing she would probably need her magic when they entered the portal, Morgan clamped her mouth shut. She would work through the pain of her magic manifesting, but she refused to have Kincade watch. “You need to go. The others will return soon, and we need to have the portal ready.”

He narrowed his eyes at her sudden change of heart. “Look, I’ve already stopped bleeding.”

Indeed, power flooded her bloodstream, the excruciating pain feeling like she was being turned inside out. It was all she could do to hold back a whimper. After another minute of studying her, he reluctantly nodded and left. As soon as the door thumped shut behind him, Morgan dropped to her knees, sweat breaking out on her forehead and trickling down her back as she struggled to keep the magic contained in her body.

After she spent five minutes curled up into a tight ball to stave off the torture, the agony finally leveled off. Knowing she needed to clean up before the men returned, she staggered to her feet, cursing when the room spun, and limped into the bathroom. She tugged her shirt over her head to wash out the blood, admiring the rainbow of bruises marching down her left side.

As she bent to her task, her gaze snagged on the edge of the runes. She turned and studied her back. While the etched runes were still there, the magic they normally contained was gone.

They appeared lifeless and dull.

That can’t be good.

She quickly stripped out of her pants and rinsed off the worst of the blood. The claw marks down her hip and thigh were still nasty, but the bleeding had stopped.

Kincade was right.

If she went, she would be a liability.

But instinct warned her if she didn’t go, no one would return.

Morgan limped to one of the closets and pulled out a medical kit, determined to sew herself back together. She’d be damned if she would let the guys risk their lives for her while she sat back and did nothing.

Her palm began to sting like she was being stabbed with needles, the pain growing until the muscles of her hand began to cramp. It felt like someone was trying to pull out her nails with a pair of pliers. She dropped the medical kit, cursing the noise as it clattered to the floor. She bent double, biting back a whimper when the pain burrowed up her arm, like fire ants were eating her from the inside out.

“Give the girl some privacy. I’m sure she can manage to go to the bathroom without help.” Harper’s snarky voice grew louder as she neared the bathroom.

The door swung open, then click shut. “Or not.”

Harper’s shoes clicked across the floor as she approached. “You’re pulling too much magic. You need to dial it back or it will eat you alive.”

“No shit.” Morgan hissed in a deep breath. “How?”

“Control it. Don’t let it control you.” Harper had a scowl on her face, clearly not happy to be helping. “You’re holding onto the magic. You need to release it. What were you thinking about when you called it?”

“Didn’t call it.” Not intentionally at least. But she had been thinking about her leg.

Very hesitantly, Morgan uncurled her hand and pressed it against her thigh.

The instant her palm touched her skin, the burning sensation spilled into her damaged hip and thigh, and the wounds began to knit itself back together, the muscles twitching and pulling as she fought off the worst charley horse ever.

Once the wound healed, the magic faded, and she was able to breathe without panting. “Is it normally so painful?”

“No.” Harper was staring down at her intently, her blue eyes alive with curiosity. “But I’ve never seen magic as strong as yours, either. Wounds that severe should have taken days to heal, and would still scar.”

She didn’t seem pleased about the revelation, either.

Morgan struggled to get to her feet, her muscles rubbery as she pulled herself upright, noting Harper didn’t offer her hand. “You’re going to open the portal.”

“I want revenge. If there is a chance of getting our people back, I’m not above using you to do it.” Harper turned away and headed toward the door, but not before Morgan saw the pain. Not only had Harper’s friends been kidnapped, but two of her guard dogs were torn apart before her very eyes while trying to protect her.

A tough pill to swallow for anyone.

Before Harper left the bathroom, she paused. “You owe me. When you get back, I want you to teach me to fight the way you do.”

Morgan couldn’t have been more flabbergasted if she’d offered to be besties.

Harper took her silence as agreement and left.

After another minute, Morgan almost felt normal, her body better than ever, and she hurriedly dressed. By the time she pushed open the bathroom door, everyone was waiting for her in the main area with a slew of weapons spread out over the table.

“The creatures living in the primordial realm are stronger than those we normally face. They will be harder to kill. Void weapons are the only thing guaranteed to kill whatever we come up against.” Kincade began to divide up the weapons, avoiding looking at her, and Morgan was chilled by the unexpected coolness between them when she was just getting used to the heat in his eyes.

When she touched the marks on her arm, concentrating on their connection, it was like running into a brick wall.

The sudden loss was devastating.

She tried to believe it was so he wouldn’t be distracted, but it didn’t ring true.

No, it was as if he was putting distance between them because…he didn’t expect to return.

The idea curdled her stomach, and she was suddenly terrified he would take too many risks. When she opened her mouth to call him out on it, Ryder cleared his throat, subtly shaking his head, and Morgan swallowed hard. He grabbed two of the blades from the table, never removing his gaze from hers, silently promising to keep watch on Kincade.

It would have to do.

Between the two of them, they would keep him safe.

Everyone gathered around the table, collecting their assigned weapons. As soon as she touched the twelve-inch tactical knife, the sigils on the blade sparkled a smoky purple.

The tip of the black knife melted, lines of liquid metal wrapping around her fist, then ran up her left arm. It felt like ice sliding under her skin. The black liquid webbed together in a shape she didn’t recognize, solidifying into a four-inch-wide black cuff. When she opened her palm, the blade was gone. It happened in a matter of seconds. “What?!”

“That’s not possible.” Harper sounded furious.

All sounds, all movement stopped. Harper and the guys stood in shock, staring at her like she’d pulled a rabbit out of her ass. “Does anyone care to explain?”

“The royal court often wore jewelry whispered to protect them. It was said they were able to pull weapons out of thin air.” Atlas became unglued first. He didn’t seem surprised. “Make a fist.”

It wasn’t the answer she wanted.

She wanted nothing to do with his royal bloodline foolishness, but she was curious enough to do as directed.

Nothing happened.

She raised her brow in silent demand, breathing a silent sigh of relief.

“Another answer is you’re a metallurgist with the ability to shape metal.” Kincade sheathed his weapons. “Without the torque blocking your magic, your powers are going to develop faster than normal.”

Which also meant a sharper learning curve.

Great!

Atlas was still staring at her hands, clearly not giving up on his harebrained idea of her being royalty. “Try again, but concentrate on forming a blade.”

Morgan tried again, but received the same response.

Jack shit.

“Enough. Figure it out later. We don’t have time to play games.” Harper began casting. Without a spelled mirror, it took raw talent to open a portal.

The temperature gradually dropped until Morgan’s breath frosted the air. The hair on her body rose, the static crackling around her turning almost painful. It took ten minutes for the air to ripple as the portal between worlds tore open. The process took so much power, Harper wilted, as if it had actually sucked the life out of her.

“Give me the signal when you need the portal open again.”

Morgan glanced at the guys. “What’s the signal?”

Atlas didn’t wait, jumping through the rift, his weapons at the ready. Draven wiggled his eyebrows and shot her a wicked grin, his eyes devoid of anything but the thirst for violence as he jumped through next.

“Find a mirror. Harper will monitor them like a radio station. When she catches the signal—our location—she’ll open the portal.” Ryder grabbed her arm, nudging her toward the rift. “You’re next.”

Without hesitation, Morgan ran toward the shimmering disturbance and leapt into nothingness.