Chapter 16

 

The room dissolved. The walls melted away and were replaced by hulking trees against a landscape of mountains capped in snow. Even the smells vanished. In their place was the scent of pine and dirt with a subtle fragrance of campfire smoke and roasting meat. It wafted around them with the brittle breeze sweeping through bare branches, knocking a cold shower of snow down the back of Magnus’s collar.

The realistic sensation was unnatural, but then so was the entire village of makeshift tents tucked beneath the sprawling wilderness and the crowd of people going about their business as if it were completely normal to live out of a backpack.

Children chased each other around roaring flames, wielding sticks, and looking as if they were trying to poke each other with them while their parents went about their business. Magnus counted about thirty domes. The number of actual people remained unclear.

At a glance, it resembled a tree hugger’s convention. Men and women in hiking boots and padded vests stomped through the clearing carrying buckets of water and bundles of firewood. Magnus and his brothers had never been camping, but they had lived in tents during the war. It wasn’t much different than that, until they drew closer and he could make out the slitted pupils and yellow eyes. If that wasn’t a giveaway, the men were extra hairy.

“Otis!” A woman’s melodious voice rang through the chill.

Magnus spun, vaguely aware that he was alone, that the others hadn’t followed him into Otis’s mind, not even the boy himself.

Vision Otis sprinted past him, a blur of boy and denim as he raced to where a pretty brunette was pushing open the flap of a tent. She stepped out onto the straw matt and caught him when the boy threw himself into her stomach.

“There you are,” she said, pressing him into her. “Can you watch your brother for me? He’s sleeping inside. I need to help tend the fire.”

Magnus started forward. He stopped once he reached the two. He peered around the woman into the tent.

The inside was dim, but he could make out cots and makeshift walls crafted from sheets. It was reasonably tidy and smelled of pine and dirt. What he couldn’t see was Alec, but he guessed the kid was sleeping somewhere within.

“But, Mom...!” Otis whined, lifting his head off his mother’s stomach. “I promised the others I’d be right back. We’re going to run along the stream.”

The woman was no longer listening. Like Magnus’s attention, hers had been pulled by the faint commotion rising from somewhere in the east. Voices rose, imperceptible shouts that filled the air with alarm.

Otis’s mother lifted yellow eyes towards the heavens peeked in through the trees. Magnus saw her nose twitch. Her fingers tightened in the soft denim jacket over the boy’s shoulder.

“Get inside,” she told him, her tone a hard warning even as she nudged him. “Stay until I, or your father come get you, do you understand?”

“But why—?”

“Now, Otis!”

The boy scrambled into the tent and was sealed in by his mother. She left them there and ran in the direction of the sound.

Knowing what he knew, knowing how that story ended, Magnus would have given his right arm to keep her with her boys, to stop her from going. She had no idea that that would be the last time she’d ever see them, or the pain and suffering they would face after she was gone.

Nevertheless, he was powerless to do more than stand there, invisible, and watch as more than one life was ruined by cowards in masks.

They swooped in on four wheelers. The roar of their engines shattered the silence a split second before the screams began. Unprepared, the wolves were mowed to the ground, some crushed, others tackled and decapitated in cold blood. Tents were set ablaze.

Men and women screamed, children cried. The sound was a cacophony of chaos and bloodshed, one that Magnus shouldn’t have been witness to if Otis was in the tent and this was his memory.

He turned to find a single, amber eye peeking through a tiny hole where the zipper hadn’t sealed completely. He opened his mouth to tell the kid to close it, but he knew it would do no good.

“Mom!”

Magnus whirled, fists already balled at his sides. He saw Otis’s mother sprinting through the carnage, blood soaking the left side of her body and dripping off the hem of her skirt. Her dark hair had come undone from its braid and blew around her stricken face.

“Mom!”

Magnus opened his mouth, a shout perched on his tongue, but a tiny finger had already poked through the metal teeth, prying it apart.

“Otis, run!”

Otis threw the flaps open and ran, but not away. He ran to his mother. His tiny legs pumped with every ounce of strength in his small body.

Magnus lunged for him, instinct taking over. He snarled when his hand went through the boy’s arm.

“No!” his mother screamed, the very last word she would ever say.

The angelic blade ripped through her chest like a bullet, tearing apart muscle, bone, tissue, and fabric, straight through her heart. Her entire body jerked as if by an invisible cord. Blood sprayed … from the wound, from her mouth. Her eyes bulged, horror and disbelief a radiant beacon.

Otis howled, a gut wrenching shriek of pain that lanced through Magnus, but all he could do was stand there and watch as the woman crumpled, dead before she even hit the ground.

Otis dropped as well. Both his little knees hit the dead leaves as if his legs could no longer support his weight. Magnus’s heart broke even as boiling rage enveloped him.

A dark shadow draped over his mother’s fallen form. It stepped over her as if she were no more than discarded trash and started forward to where Otis sat. The cloth covering obscured everything, his entire head, leaving no visible markings to identify him. Magnus searched for even a sliver of something familiar, but aside from tall and built, he had nothing.

“Run!” he told the boy. “Get up!”

Otis scrambled to his feet, not because Magnus had told him to, but because the man was nearly on him.

He bolted back in the direction of the tent. He dove inside and yanked the zipper closed.

Magnus found himself trapped in the musty darkness rather than the open space of wilderness now drenched in the stench of copper and death. Otis was shoving drapes aside to reveal a tiny bundle sitting upright and disheveled on a cot.

“Otis?” Alec squeaked, his voice small and wavering with his terror.

“Come on.”

Otis grabbed him and dragged him off the bed. The smaller boy stumbled over the blankets tangled around his legs, but he didn’t slow his brother down when Otis scurried into one corner. Crates of dry goods were shoved aside just as a ripping sound filled the space.

A knife glinted against the dark fabric of the tent. It slashed a tattered cut down the length of the flap.

At least he hadn’t set the thing on fire, Magnus thought absently.

Otis had made his own hole in the corner with a bottle opener. He shoved Alec through first, then scrambled out after his brother.

Magnus flicked out of the tent and found himself back outside in the rancid air of burning plastic and carnage. Otis and Alec were sprinting through the woods, Alec’s tiny hand clasped tight in his brother’s.

But Alec’s small legs were no match for a grown man’s. A meaty fist slammed down on Otis’s back, sending both children sprawling into the dirt. Alec immediately began crying. Otis sprung up, teeth and claws bared, prepared to protect his brother no matter what the cost.

The man laughed. “I know a guy who will pay handsomely for a couple of werecubs.”

Otis lunged, but he’d barely made it a foot when the backhand caught him across the face and sent the world to black.

The image faded.

The wilderness vanished, replaced by walls painted in shadows. Death turned into the faces of his family as each one came back into focus, each one wearing a different expression, yet all conveying the same horror.

Riley was crying behind the hands pressed against her mouth. Imogen looked sick. Her complexion matched the green of her sweater. Damp strands had escaped her braid and clung to her temples and cut across her throat in a pale necklace where Magnus could just make out the hammering little pulse.

Magnus found them first, because they were directly in front of him, but he comforted neither. His focus had already shifted past them to the boys, particularly the eldest.

Otis sat pale and shaken between Riley and Alec. His ashen cheeks glistened with tears, but he was silent, unmoving. Magnus knew he should say something. Normal, decent people would say something. They would know how to comfort a child they’d helped break. Instead, all he could do was meet the boy’s golden eyes feeling like the most worthless person on the planet.

Alec tugged at his brother’s sleeve. Anxious eyes searched in confusion and concern, glistening with their own tears. He made a low whining sound that Magnus had to turn away from.

They probably should have known better. They probably should have been more careful. He wasn’t entirely sure what they could have done differently but someone else should have taken charge, someone like his mom, but he knew it had to happen. There was no avoiding that.

Resigned, and properly disgusted with all of them, Magnus faced Zara, his lips parted with instructions to stop. There was no point making the kid relive the rest. But the words froze at the sight of her, at the fine threads of blood running in rivulets from her nose and the corners of her eyes instead of tears. The color blazed in horrific streaks over the ivory surface of her face and tracked down her throat.

Her eyes were screwed closed beneath bunched brows. Unlike the rest of them, she was still lost in Otis’s head. He could see the concentration in the lines on her forehead and around her lips. Her knuckles were white around his small hand, but neither seemed to notice.

“Zara?” Magnus went to her and knelt. His hands settled her knees. He shook her lightly. “Zara! Stop.”

“I’m all right.”

“You’re bleeding.”

One shaky hand lifted and touched the crimson trickle running over her lips and down her chin. Her eyes opened and he was struck by the enlargement of her pupils to almost twice their size, engulfing most of the white so the violet was a thin band surrounding a circle of black.

“I’m okay,” she said again, sounding even less convincing than the first time.

Her eyelids began to slip closed and she swayed slightly as if she were about to faint. Magnus caught her.

“Jesus, you’re not okay.” He twisted slightly to address whoever was closest to him. “Get me some water and a rag.”

His mother was closest, but Reggie sprinted to the drink cart. He returned with two fingers of brandy and a fistful of napkins.

Magnus took the napkins first. He cradled Zara’s head against his shoulder, and gently mopped at her face. The dry material did nothing to properly erase stains on her cheeks. If anything, it left behind a faint blush to her chalky complexion he couldn’t rub off without hurting her. But most of it was gone, enough of it that he was able to stuff the used napkins into his pocket and reach for the drink.

“Carefully,” he told her, setting the rim against her lip.

She coughed the moment the liquid went down her throat. Her body jerked against his, nearly spilling the rest of the brandy down her front.

“That’s awful,” she wheezed, lifting a limp hand to wipe at her mouth.

Magnus ignored that. He brought it to her lips again, resisted her refusal and making her drink.

She got more of it in her, even around the sputtering. Once satisfied she would be okay, he sat the glass aside and tipped back her chin to study her more closely.

“What were you thinking?” he demanded, watching patches of color soak into her cheeks. “You’ve been unconscious for days. You’ve barely been out of bed for an hour. You weren’t ready.”

“It needed to be done,” she breathed, that slurred stutter in her voice again. “These people need to be caught. They can’t … they can’t be allowed to hurt…”

Her lashes slipped closed. Her head pulled forward.

“Hey.” He dragged her limp frame down into his lap. “Open your eyes. Come on. Zara.”

“I’m fine,” she attempted to assure him. “I just need to catch my breath. I can try again.”

“Like hell you will,” he snapped.

“I can see—”

“I don’t care if you can get names and addresses,” he cut her off sharply. “You’re not doing that again. Ever again. Now, stay awake.”

“I’m trying. I’m just so tired.”

“Maybe you should put her to bed,” Kyaerin murmured gently from over his shoulder.

No one stopped him when he carted her from the parlor, her tiny stature barely weighing more than a child’s cradled against his chest. Her head remained against his shoulder, her face tucked against the side of his neck. Her every shallow breath whispered like a cool morning breeze over his skin.

“Zara?”

“I’m awake.”

In her room, he set her gently on the bed and went into the bathroom for a wet rag. He scanned the interior while the water ran, assessing the empty counters and lack of bathing products along the tub. He made a mental note to ask his mother to…

“They’re in the cupboard,” came her voice in his head. “Your mother was kind enough to acquaint me with your bathing rituals. She brought me bottles of things that smell of food that I am to put on my skin.” She paused, seemingly considering her words before continuing. “Is it customary to smell like food?”

He resisted the urge to tell her it was one of those great mysteries no man was brave enough to attempt to solve and settled for, “Some women like it.”

She was still there when he returned, unmoving, frustratingly still.

“Infuriating women,” he muttered under his breath.

He took her chin lightly between his thumb and index finger and lifted her face to his.

Her eyes opened and he found himself lost in their shiny pools. They continued to hold his gaze even when he lightly brushed at her cheeks. The skin beneath the cloth pinkened, matching the pink of her lips.

“Do you like it?”

He thought about it in between swipes. “Your smell is fine without smelling like food.” He quickly changed the subject before she could push. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he murmured, needing to destroy the pull urging him to move forward and taste her.

“I was the only one who could.”

Magnus shook his head. “Akilah.”

Lines followed his remark across the smooth skin off her brow. He couldn’t tell if it was annoyance or deliberation.

“She was in my head with you.” Magnus started to nod, but she was still talking. “She’s very hard to read.”

He cleaned the last of her face and set aside the rag. He drew the sheets around her.

She watched him without saying a word. Her breathing seemed normal again, but her pallor continued to concern him. The color wasn’t normal.

“Are you hungry?”

She shook her head.

Uncomfortable by her unwavering stare, her silence, Magnus drew back. “Go to sleep. I’ll come by later to check on you.”

She waited until he was nearly to the door before her voice filled his head.

“Magnus?”

He paused with his hand on the knob and glanced back. “Yeah?”

Pale eyes studied him through the distance separating them, glowing orbs of light penetrating the still darkness.

“Don’t allow her in my mind again. Her presence has left a stain.” He heard her audible gulp from across the room. “It’s violating.”

What could he say? Admitting he’d been worried left an itch between his shoulder blades, confessing he’d been wrong to allow it made him feel like an idiot.

“I won’t,” was the best he could do.

She said nothing else as he walked out. The door was shut behind him and he made his way back to the parlor. It was the wrong decision. Without Zara, the voices were deafening. They were vibrating beneath his skin and howling like vengeful demons in his head. The sheer force was enough to tilt the world into endless darkness.

“Magnus!”

His mother caught sight of him before he could escape. He considered leaving anyway, but she was already motioning him over. He braved the first three steps, but stopped when a solid wall of hot noise rose up in front of him. The impact nearly sent him staggering back.

He put a hand up to stop his mother’s hurried steps towards him. It amazed him how someone so small could be so loud with her thoughts. Christ, it was as if she had a mega phone pressed to her brain.

“Is Zara all right?”

Magnus nodded. “She’s resting.”

“That shouldn’t have happened,” she argued, hands wringing in front of her. “I feel awful.”

“But we learned things about that night we may not have otherwise,” Liam said. “Zara did us a great service.” He faced the room. “I’ll be calling a House meeting,” he declared. “Judging from the sheer size of that attack, we’re safe to assume the leaders should be aware of that many Casters going rogue.”

“You’re not going alone,” Kyaerin insisted.

“I will go with you,” Magnus volunteered immediately. “Believe me, you want me there,” he rushed on when it looked like his dad was going to argue.

What he didn’t say was he could get more information by simply standing in the room than his dad could by talking.

“Very well,” Liam decided. “We leave within the hour.”

An hour was what it took to find permanent rooms for the children, rooms close enough to the rest of the family without having to evict anyone. Magnus was certain this was a bad idea. Werewolves were temperamental and hotheaded to start with, without getting anywhere near them. The children were worse. They had no sense of control and could change just by getting angry enough. Now they had two of those just running around the place. That was a disaster waiting to happen.

Nevertheless, Riley and his mom had dedicated themselves to keeping the pair. Even Valkyrie seemed softer around the cubs. He even caught her grinning at the little boy at one point. The whole thing was madness.

They took Liam’s BMW to the sacred temple in the very heart of the city. It no longer worshiped the pagan gods as it had the first time Magnus had visited eons ago. At the turn of the era, the deities had been removed and replaced by the somber carvings of Christ. But the faded stones remained the same. Its steeples and newly shingled roof sat forlorn and desolate in the arms of one of the biggest cemeteries. No one visited anymore. The grounds itself no longer had the room to contain the thousands buried beneath its soil. Its gates had been sealed nearly a decade before to any new cliental. But the Houses continued using the structure for their meetings. They arrived in the cloak of shadows and bowing spruce trees, a silent flock beneath the waxing moon.

Magnus stayed a step behind his father, his strides purposeful. His angelic blade rested heavy in the depths of his pocket. Two more blades weighed down his ankles. A third was tucked into the back waistband of his pants. The temple was hallowed grounds, a location of sanctuary where no weapons were permitted, but it was a rule Magnus couldn’t give two shits about where his father was concerned. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe the other Houses weren’t packing, either. No man went into a warzone without protection.

“Wait for me outside,” Liam said when they reached the worn steps of the holy place.

“I would be more help inside,” Magnus argued, knowing it was useless; only leaders were allowed within the doors. “I need to be inside.”

His father narrowed his eyes. “You know that isn’t the way things are done, Magnus. Please wait here.”

Knowing a useless fight when confronted with one, Magnus gritted his jaw and stepped off to the side. His father ducked inside. Then it was just him staring across a landscape of stone markers jutting from the ground like rows of serrated shark teeth. His irritation blew out in front of him in a white cloud of breath that immediately vanished into the night. He stuffed his fists into his coat pockets and slumped against the cold stone making up the side of the mausoleum.

He’d have to think of another way to get into the minds of the other house leaders. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to manage that when he was separated from them by walls of stone and not yet strong enough to recognize inner voices. Granted, it wouldn’t have been hard to separate Tiana’s feminine one from the other three men, but that was it.

He wondered how Zara did it. He wondered how she was able to stand it at all. Having more practice didn’t seem like the beginning and end of it. He needed to convince her to teach him. Maybe then he’d feel like there was a purpose to her being in his life … and head.

That thought took him to her earlier request not to let Akilah in her thoughts without her permission and the irony of that made him squint into the darkness. The woman hadn’t once asked anyone if she could waltz through their personal thoughts and yet...

“It’s not the same,” said her voice, holding just a hint of impatience.

Magnus started, then cursed loudly. To anyone passing by, he probably seemed like a crazy person shouting random curse words in a cemetery. No doubt the loony bin was already on their way to pick him up.

“Really? Because from where I’m standing, you seem incapable of keeping out of people’s heads.”

Anger lanced through the connection, a vicious crack that reminded him of a whip. He would have winced if she wasn’t already speaking.

“I would give anything to be relieved of this burden. I would happily relinquish whatever the cost, my happiness, my sanity … my soul to be free of this curse. While you may simply be inconvenienced by a trait I am powerless to restrain, I am inconvenienced by your thoughts, by your constant fretting, your doubts, your fears. I am torn by your dreams and nightmares. I have lived more lives unwillingly in the time I have been here than the two years I spent under the hands of a monster who used and tormented me for my abilities. So, do not tell me how tedious my gift is to you.”

Magnus could think of nothing to say. Any pithy remark he could have thought to make evaporated with the heavy presence of her emotions wavering through every word. He didn’t know how he could sense her hurt and misery, but it was all there, winding around him with the embrace of a barbed wire.

“Knock it off,” he mumbled. “If this is some ploy to make me feel bad—”

“I wouldn’t dare dream you capable of such a petty thing, Mr. Avery. But in the future, if you wish to keep me from your thoughts, perhaps you should refrain yourself from calling me.”

“I never called you.”

“No, but you were thinking of me.”

Magnus was momentarily grateful for being alone where no one could see the blush that crept up his neck. “I wasn’t thinking about you. I was thinking about thoughts of you...” He gave up before he could embarrass himself any further. “Why aren’t you resting?”

“I was, but your voice … I’m unable to stop hearing it. I can’t keep it out.”

Honestly. Unabashed, suffocating honesty. What the hell was he supposed to do about that? How was he supposed to answer?

He decided not to. What would be the point? What would it solve? Explaining the curse would make no difference in eliminating it.

“Is there a way to stop it?” she asked. “This … link, can you make it end?”

Magnus considered her question while studying the glittering skyline in the far distance. “I don’t know,” he told her honestly. “But I’m going to find it if there is.”

There was a sprinkling of silence where he could only hear the whisper of night shivering all around him. It was eerie how very little sound ever truly permeated a graveyard. It circled and swirled around him, filling the space she’d occupied with a chill that made him shudder.

Oh yes, he would most definitely find it. This nightmare would end one way or another. Once it did, he’d return her to her temple and he’d return to his normal, happy life.

“When have you been happy?” Zara wondered, not out of cruelty, but genuine curiosity. “From what I’ve seen of your past and your future, your entire life has been a parade of sorrow and misery.”

“Maybe sorrow and misery make me happy,” he mused evenly. “Maybe I like being unhappy.”

She seemed to be considering that. Through the link, her mind wove silver threads of thought, intertwining in an elaborate web that shimmered. Magnus watched it grow, expanding the miles between them. Its near solidity made him want to reach up and touch it. Its clarity was astonishing. But he didn’t interrupt her deliberation. He’d been distracted by the scuffle of approaching feet.

He and Liam must have been the first to arrive, because King Jub of the east arrived with two of his barely clad warriors. Then Tiana with four of her own men. The sight of her tightened something inside him, a dull ache of betrayal. She’d been the second woman in his life to hurt him deep enough to leave scarring. At times, when he really thought about it, even he couldn’t be sure who had cut him worse, Osha or Tiana. Both had lured his trust, then used him to hurt the people he cared about. In Tiana’s case, it was practically on the heels of what Osha had done.

It had been Kyros who found him wandering the human world, still crusted with the blood of his ex-lover and her entire village. Magnus had no recollection of crossing back, but Kyros had taken him home, had given him a place to hide from his demons, had cleaned him up, had been a friend. He and Tiana had put him back together, had given him purpose again without asking for anything in return. They had become a second family to him. He owed them his life. His sanity.

Now, he could barely look at the Draconian queen when she climbed the steps, because the facts remained a violent reminder and the bond they’d once had, the one nurtured and raised from the stem of a broken man, was long gone. She had killed something nothing could repair.

“Magnus.”

She came to a gliding halt next to him, seemingly immune to the frigid January night. The light from the moon glinted off the silk gown she wore, emphasizing the woven threads of gold. Her dark hair was piled up top of her head, exposing the slender arch of her throat and the bare curves of her shoulders.

“Your Highness.” He inclined his head just enough to appear respectful.

Tiana sighed, a dainty little sound that mirrored the anguish in her tawny gaze. “Magnus,” she purred again. “I have missed you.”

“Forgive me, Your Highness. Things have been chaotic.”

Not entirely a lie. Things had been chaos. He had been busy. But they both knew that wouldn’t have stopped him from visiting the south.

“You will come see me?”

Magnus bowed his head once more, still not entirely capable of meeting her gaze. “I will do my best.”

Another lie. But she never called him on it. Instead, she glided up the steps after King Jub.

Like him, the warriors were left outside in the cold. Yet the fact that it was winter seemed not to faze the eastern men in their loincloths. They stood perfectly immobile off to one side with their swords already in hand. Tiana’s men had exchanged their simple garments of animal hide for suits, expensive, expertly designed trousers and blazers in a deep, midnight blue. They reminded Magnus of the Secret Service without the sunglasses. He was the only one of the group dressed casual, if cargo pants and a leather floor duster could be considered casual.

“Would you like me to tell you what she was thinking?” Zara butted in, making Magnus blink. “She’s very upset about the way things ended between you.”

“I don’t care,” Magnus interjected sharply. “It doesn’t change what she did.”

“Are you always so unforgiving?”

“Yes.” He squinted at the door now firmly closed behind three of the four leaders. “You can only earn a person’s trust once.”

“But you hold no resentments towards her people, or her grandson Kyros,” she plucked from his mind. “You still consider him a friend.”

Magnus frowned. “She gave the order. She could have stopped it, she didn’t. He hasn’t done anything.”

“Neither have I, yet you would behead me given the chance.” She paused just long enough to let that sink in before she continued. “You blame me for something I have no control over, a genetic miscalculation I’m not even aware how I came to have. Isn’t that a bit like blaming a child for being born blind?”

“It’s not the same,” he bit out. “The Draconians don’t have a history of slaughtering innocent lives, they don’t invade like some parasite.”

“Don’t they?” she cut in seamlessly. “What they do to the girls in their tribe, what they did to your brother’s wife. How easily you seem to forgive the cruelty unleashed on the helpless … the innocent when you are blinded by your own self-righteousness.”

Writhing fury lapped against the cavity of his nerves. The electricity curled around his bunched fists.

“They didn’t slaughter my children!” he snarled.

“Neither did I!” she shot back with equal venom. “I was sold into slavery. I was imprisoned, tortured, humiliated. I suffered for years. I was betrayed by people I trusted. I was shunned for not being like them, for not being...” She broke off and he could almost hear her panting, could feel the words lodged in her chest, the things she wanted to spill out between them, but didn’t. He could feel the urgency pulsing in his own chest, the blinding agony trapped in the pit of his stomach. “I was kidnapped, branded, and now imprisoned in the mind of a man who can’t stomach me for crimes I never committed. Where is the justice? When will you realize I’m not your enemy?”

Magnus said nothing, because there was nothing to say. There was no right way to answer her. Besides, what did it matter? Anything he wanted to say, she would already know it before he did. Her asking at all was pointless.

“I pity you, Magnus Avery,” she said at last, but there was no malice or anger in the quiet retort. “And I will have no more part of it.”

A switch flicked inside his head before he could ask her what she meant. The distinct click resembled a knuckle popping. It was the last thing he heard before the world rushed down on him with a ferocity that nearly made him clutch his head.

Shrieking voices struck the top of his head with the severity of a mallet. He could have sworn the crack of his skull shattering could have been heard for miles. He nearly howled in agony when it softened. Something draped between him and the voices, a satin fabric muffling the pain.

“Zara?”

Her end was momentarily silent. “I’m not heartless,” she whispered at last. “As much as I wish I could be.”

His temples continued to thrum, but not with the same intensity.

“What are you doing?”

She gave a distinct sniff of annoyance. “You need to hear them, don’t you?” she muttered. “Can’t do that if I’m blocking you, can you?”

Blocking.

Suddenly it all made sense how he could only sometimes hear voices and other times nothing. She’d been using herself as a buffer, even in her sleep.

“Why would you do that?” especially considering the way he’d treated her. She had no reason to save him the pain. In all reality, he deserved it.

“You do,” she agreed simply. “But as I said, I’m not heartless. Now, quiet and listen.”

He tucked all that away for later. It was something he’d have to deliberate when he didn’t have a different purpose.

He focused on the other men.

“Typical Harvesters,” one of the men—Magnus couldn’t pinpoint which—was thinking, his inner voice the loudest with his impatience.

It dawned on Magnus that Arild Devereaux was still absent. His female army hadn’t made it up the path. An uneasy feeling settled over him. He dug into his pocket for his phone, although, he had absolutely no idea who to call. Their only contact within the west had been Valkyrie, but since her disgrace with her family, she hadn’t spoken to any of them. And he couldn’t call her anyway, because cellphones didn’t work at the manor.

It didn’t matter, he told himself. If there was anything Arild enjoyed in life, it was making other people wait for him. Magnus opted to ignore the king’s absence temporarily.

“How long is this going to take?” gripped another inner voice. “I’m freezing my ass off.”

The secret confession nearly made him snicker, but he used the moment to get the group talking.

“Any word on the attacks?” he ventured, knowing there was a very good chance no one would answer him … verbally.

As he suspected, only one of Tiana’s warriors flicked a glance in his direction. The others remained perfectly stoic.

“What’s he getting at?” said the inner voice. “Does he know something?”

“We have a pair of wolf cubs whose entire pack was slaughtered a few months back,” he pressed on, straining to match the thoughts to the owners. “They remember seeing one of the attackers. Might even help lead us to him.”

“Bullshit!” said one inner voice. “We were all wearing hoods.”

Magnus struggled not to stiffen. His fingers inched towards the blade in his pocket.

“Have you guys had any luck?”

“Please. The bitch won’t even mention the attacks,” said one of Tiana’s warrior’s inner voice. “Instead, we sit around, the laughing stock of the underworld.”

Magnus decided he wasn’t the one. That left the other five.

“So, apparently, the attackers are now wearing hoods.” He cleared his throat. “But one of them showed his face and—”

“That fucking Sachiel. I knew he couldn’t be trusted!”

The name rang no bells, but Magnus pushed on.

“Anyway, I’m telling you guys, because, you know, we’re on the same team and all.” He shook his head. “These guys are giving us all a bad name. Actually, speaking of names, we might have caught one of them. He’s at the manor right now, talking to my brothers.”

“What guy?” piped up one of Jub’s guys. “What’s he saying?”

“We’re just trying to get him to give names right now,” Magnus said casually, trying to judge their expressions “Once he gives those up, we’ll definitely split the list up with you guys. The faster we can get these assholes out of our houses, the faster things can go back to normal, right?”

“He doesn’t have shit,” said the voice. “He’s lying.” But there was uncertainty in the thought.

“Why would he do that?” thought a secondary voice. “What does he want in return? No way he’s doing this out of the kindness of his heart. Everyone knows Magnus Maxwell has no heart.”

Nice, Magnus thought dryly, but kept his features perfectly balanced.

“Actually, you guys might be able to help me out with something.” He shifted a step closer and lowered his voice. “The guy, we don’t know him. He won’t tell us which house he’s from, but we have his name. Maybe you guys’ll recognize him? Sachiel?”

“Holy fuck!”

The panic was a white-hot streak slashing through Magnus’s head. The explosion of terror nearly sent him to his knees. But it got him no closer to identifying the owner.

“That fucking asshole!”

“You okay?” said an outside voice over the one roaring between Magnus’s ears.

Struggling not to clap his hands to his vibrating skull, Magnus nodded. “Yeah, headache.” He blinked through the pain and focused. “But any of you heard of him?”

His question was never answered when the roar of a motorcycle ripped through the night. All heads pivoted in the direction of the path where a single headlight was growing closer. The bike was stopped at the bottom of the incline. The engine was switched off and the rider rose.

Magnus recognized the rider almost immediately.

Serinda Devereaux stalked over the grassy slope, her movement agile. The helmet on her head was ripped off, releasing a riot of dark curls to tumble free down the leather clad curves of her shoulders. Her expression tense with rage, she stalked straight past the group and up the stairs.

“Hey!” one warrior shouted after her. “Is she allowed to do that?” wondered his inner voice.

Yet, no one stopped her.

She wrenched open the doors and stormed in.

Magnus waited a full second before running after her. The others followed.

The inside had been hollowed out, removed of its pews and alters for a single, round table at the very center. That was where the three leaders sat, no doubt waiting for Arild. Instead, their heads shot up when Serinda stalked across the hardwood, helmet in hand.

It was set on the table where her father should have been.

“Serinda?” Liam rose, concern having him taking her in. “Is everything all right?”

The warrior lifted her chin, the pallor of her complexion striking in contrast to the darkness of her hair and clothes. Even her lips were bloodless. In comparison, her blue eyes were an electric blue that seemed to snap as they took in the group.

But it was the rage and pain, and terror that swirled through the air in a cyclone of broken glass that Magnus noticed most. It was the words, the tattered edges of them. It was almost impossible to properly read them, but they drowned all the other voices.

“Where is your father, child?” Tiana piped in.

“My father will not be attending,” Serinda declared. “In his absence, as the eldest, I…” she faltered for the first time. Her mouth snapped shut and a muscle worked in her jaw. Her gloved hand settled on the armrest of her father’s chair. “I will take his seat.”

“That isn’t how it works,” Jub bit out in his gruff wheeze. “What? Arild can’t take time out of his busy schedule to attend a simple Keeper meeting?”

Serinda said nothing for a long moment, but Magnus could almost feel her bracing herself. “My father will not be attending,” she repeated slower. “I will take his seat. As eldest, it is my right!” she snapped when Jub opened his mouth.

“They mustn’t learn of father’s death,” said her inner voice. “They will think us weak. We cannot trust them not to attack while our defenses are down. We can’t trust they weren’t involved.”

“Jesus…” Magnus breathed without thinking.

That caught everyone’s attention. All eyes rounded on him. Even Serinda’s.

“You should not be in here,” she stated with the firmness he’d come to expect from her. “These are hallowed grounds.”

Magnus faltered. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say, but he knew he needed to alert his father. Liam needed to know why the leader of the west couldn’t attend. What more, he couldn’t trust his father alone with those people.

“I would rather stay.”

“Magnus.” Liam shot him a warning glower. “Please wait outside.”

“No.” He ignored the silence that followed by never taking his gaze off Serinda. “My job is to protect you. I can’t do that from outside.”

“What are you suggesting, Magnus?” Tiana gasped. “That we would harm your father?”

Magnus said nothing, but mainly because Serinda’s inner thoughts had begun to cloud outside communications.

“He knows. How could he? Unless…” Her eyes narrowed.

“Magnus!”

Magnus saw it in Serinda’s bright eyes even before Zara’s panicked cry.

Her blade slipped from the sleeve of her leather jacket. Magnus had just enough of a chance to jerk back when it swung. The spark flew inches from his nose. Magnus used her momentum and captured her wrist. With a twist, he yanked her to him.

“I didn’t kill him,” he hissed for her ears only.

“Then how could you know?”

“Not the way you think.” He shoved her back just enough to look into her face without getting stabbed. “I’m on your side.”

If that was supposed to appease her, it didn’t work.

“And why would I believe you?”

As a show of friendship, he raised his hands. “Because you’re technically family.”

“Valkyrie,” she thought. Outwardly, she replied, “We will speak later.”

Magnus inclined his head and took a step back, but remained within the chamber. His father didn’t ask him to leave again.

“What is all this excitement?” Tiana looked around the room. “This is highly unorthodox, Liam. Keeper business is sacred and kept within the leaders.”

Liam’s gaze flicked to Magnus, questioning, but when he spoke, it was to the table. “If my son feels he is needed here, then I will not remove him.” He peered at the group around him. “These are tenuous times. Extra measures are necessary.”

“How very concerning,” Tiana mumbled. “Should we be concerned, Liam?”

“If you’re not already, I suggest you start,” Liam answered smoothly. “We are on the brink of war. Our people are being slaughtered. Our homes are being invaded. There is a threat issued for the fall of the Houses. So, yes, Tiana, concern is necessary.”

Tiana’s chin went up, but she kept her lips firmly mashed together.

“Who issued the threat?” Serinda demanded, pulling out her father’s chair and dropping into it. “Was the person captured?”

“It was merely talk,” Tiana voiced. “The veil creatures are having a hard time believing we are capable of protecting them after all the deaths.”

“Someone made a threat against the leaders and nothing was done?”

Magnus knew she was thinking of her father, of his death, and her question made sense.

“We can’t simply run at every threat that comes our way,” Tiana reasoned. “Perhaps Harvesters have the resources to charge headlong into every battle, but we of the south require precaution and logic.”

“Not in the midst of war,” Serinda countered. “This is the time to take every noise seriously.”

“There never should have been a war,” said Tiana’s tremulous inner voice. “He swore no one would get hurt. I never should have believed him. He is the cause of all this. He betrayed us all.”

“War is no reason to get sloppy,” she said out loud, but inside, she was falling apart. “Especially when he has that monster.”

“We need to strategize—”

“Stop talking.” Magnus’s sharp command halted everyone in the room, including Serinda, whose mouth was still shaped in the form of her words. But his focus was on Tiana, even as he crept closer to the table to hear her better over all the other mindless ramblings from everyone else. “Zara?”

He hadn’t meant to say her name out loud, but his mind was processing too much too quickly and he could no longer tell what was in his head and what wasn’t.

“Who’s Zara?” someone asked.

Magnus ignored them.

“I need to hear her,” he thought, aiming his question to Zara.

She didn’t answer, but all the other voices in the room muffled to nothing. In return, Tiana’s inner voice amplified like back feed in a mic.

Magnus winced and took a step back.

“Sorry,” Zara murmured.

Everything balanced out, leveling so Tiana’s thoughts were as clear and even as her outer.

“Trusted who, Your Highness?” he prompted, searching her wide eyes. “What have you done?”

“Magnus, what—?”

He put up a hand to stop his father’s questions.

“I … I don’t know what—”

But he silenced her with a single finger, ears straining for all the things she wasn’t verbally saying.

“What is he doing?” she kept wondering. “Does he know? No. Of course he doesn’t. How could he?”

“Who betrayed us?” He hedged.

Tiana’s eyes widened. “How does he know...?” Her outer voice picked up before her inner voice could finish. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. In fact, I am outraged—”

Magnus ignored her sputtering. “You made a deal with someone. Tell me who.”

“A deal?” King Jub shoved his chair back and struggled to heave his large frame out of his chair. “What have you done, Tiana?”

Tiana paid him no attention. Her olive complexion had gone white and she was trembling.

“It’s all coming apart,” her inner voice kept crying. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I never would have agreed if it weren’t for her! This is all her fault. He wasn’t supposed to let her out.”

“Let who out?” Magnus pushed. “Who did you trust?”

Tiana attempted to push to her feet.

“Sit down!” he snarled, slamming a fist on the table. “You’re not going anywhere.”

All of hell broke loose. He should have known it would. Of course it would. Tiana’s men wouldn’t stand idly by as their queen was attacked, assaulted … threatened.

They charged towards their queen. King Jub’s men rushed to block their king. Serinda rushed to Magnus’s side, daggers extended.

“Don’t let her leave!” Magnus shouted to anyone who was listening.

She couldn’t. Not without passing Magnus to get to the door. He had her blocked in, but he couldn’t trust he could keep her there if her guards distracted him.

Liam stepped forward, blocking the queen.

Tiana’s eyes went enormous as she peered up into his face. “Liam?”

To his credit, Liam looked genuinely apologetic. “Forgive me, but I’m afraid you can’t leave until we’ve settled this matter. Please tell your men to stand down. There is no need for anyone to get hurt, and you are severely outnumbered.”

Amber pools surveyed the room, taking in the faces that would not help her. She started to shake her head, but commonsense must have finally sunk in.

She put her hand up. Her men immediately skittered to a stop.

“You don’t understand,” she told Liam. “I was only trying to help.”

Herself, from what Magnus gathered by simply listening to her inner thoughts, but there were too many other people there. He needed to get her home where Zara could help him pick apart the chaos.

“She needs to come with us,” Magnus announced.

“Absolutely not!” King Jub sputtered. “She’s a leader. You will show her respect.”

“As of this moment, Queen Tiana is a person of interest,” Serinda interjected smoothly. “By law, we have the right to detain her for questioning.”

“On what grounds?” the round man demanded.

“On the grounds of treason,” Magnus said before Serinda could open her mouth. “She’s been conspiring with the enemy against the treaty.”

“Are you sure about this?” Liam asked, peering intently at his son.

Magnus nodded. “Without a doubt.”

“How is that possible?” Jub snapped. “We were all here. She hasn’t said a word about … about treason. This absurd accusation—”

“You’re thinking that if you stand up for Tiana now, she’ll return the favor the next time you need it.” Magnus cut the man off. “You think it will make you look magnanimous in the eyes of the House.”

Jub’s blotchy, veiny complexion darkened. “How—?”

Magnus ignored the question. “I’m not wrong.”

“Well, where are you taking her?” Jub got over his shock fast enough. “She has a right to one member of her region as council.”

Serinda gave a shake of her head. “Except in the event where the leader is being questioned for murder.”

“Murder?” Liam and Tiana cried simultaneously.

“How dare you!” Tiana blurted, color slipping from her cheeks. “I will not stand here and be accused of such lunacy. I wish to speak to your father. If this is his idea of entertainment—”

“My father will not be handling this matter.” Serinda faced Magnus before anyone could ask. “My warriors are right behind me, but it may be best if the Queen rides with you and your father. I assume you came with a car?”

Magnus started to nod.

“I beg your pardon,” Tiana broke in. “How dare you assume that I would go anywhere with you. I am a Queen. I am a leader. You—”

“You are a suspect,” Serinda interjected coolly. “Queen or leader, it doesn’t change that fact. It’s our duty as Harvesters to find justice. So, forgive me, Your Highness, but your wants and needs come second to those we protect.”

Without another word, she whirled on the sharp spikes of her heels and stalked in the direction of the doors. She shoved straight past Tiana’s guards, shouldering them apart in her progress. Neither one made any attempt to stop her, or even speak. They kept staring at their queen, waiting for orders.

But Tiana was staring between Liam and Jub, asking both without words to help her, to say something. Neither did, which seemed to dawn on her the longer she stood there, mouth ajar.

“You can’t seriously allow this,” she sputtered.

While there had once been a time Magnus would have willingly thrown himself in to protect her, that time had passed.

He stepped forward and took her elbow. “It’s just a talk, Your Highness,” he assured her, even while he maneuvered her forward.

Her guards remained resolute, but uncertain. They shifted uncertainly when Magnus hauled their queen forward, but made no move to stop him.

Something about that amused him, while simultaneously disgusted him. Everyone in that room would have been killed if anyone had dared go anywhere near his father. The entire place would have been painted red before he’d have allowed it. As their queen, they’d sworn to protect her with their lives and yet…

Liam’s BMW gleamed in the night. The dark paint shimmered like an oil spill against the glowing white of the snow. Magnus forced open the back door and forcibly shoved Tiana into the seat. He shut the door just as Liam reached him.

“Are you sure about this, Magnus?” his father asked, eyes focused. “If you’re wrong, this will mean war.”

Magnus knew what he’d heard in Tiana’s head. She knew something. More importantly, she knew who was behind the attacks.

“We’re already at war, but yeah, I’m sure.”

That was all Liam asked. With a nod, he circled the front of the car. Magnus started to reach for the handle of the passenger’s side door when the roar of multiple engines made him pause. His chin turned over his shoulder and he squinted into the darkness.

Jub and his men remained on the steps of the mausoleum, shadowy silhouettes against the night.

Serinda and four other figures straddling gleaming sport bikes hovered along the edges of the road, almost thirty feet from the back of Liam’s car. Were it not for their blinding headlights, Magnus would never have seen them.

One of Tiana’s guards was gone, possibly hurried off to get their armies assembled. Magnus wasn’t sure who they would summon to make the decision. With Tiana in custody and Kyros gone, the royal bloodline was slimmer. No doubt there was a contingency plan in place for such an event, but if there was, he’d never been made aware of it, nor was it any of his concern. The other followed them back to Final Judgement in the Queen’s luxurious, white limo.

Serinda seemed to be fine with the decision as she and her warriors followed them up the steps.

Akilah and Imogen were removed from the room. Serinda’s warriors and the Queen’s guard were made to stand in the hallway. This was Caster business, yet they made an exception with Riley. No one even seemed to question her presence in the parlor when they hauled Tiana inside and shut the doors.

“What is she doing here?” Valkyrie rose, a stunning beauty clad entirely in her leather gear. Her dark hair was swept back in a heavy plait, leaving her fury exposed across her face. Her pale eyes jumped past the Draconian queen and widened. “Serinda?”

Her sister inclined her head once. “Sister.”

“Everyone, please.” Liam motioned for those standing to sit, which was mainly Gideon, Valkyrie, and Kyaerin. “The sooner we get through this, the better.”

The three sat mutely. Eyes watched warily as the queen was marched forward and deposited into Liam’s armchair. Kyaerin shifted in her seat, her displeasure a deep crease between her eyebrows, but she remained politely silent.

“Would you like anything to drink, Tiana?” Liam asked kindly.

The Queen’s answer was the baring of her teeth. “This is treason!” she snarled. “I will have all your heads!”

Riley giggled and quickly clapped one hand over her mouth. She winced as heads turned in her direction.

“Sorry. Sorry.” She laughed again. “I know this is all serious, but that was very Alice in Wonderland. Off with their heads!”

Gideon laughed.

No one else did.

“She’s not really a queen, is she?” Riley asked, studying Tiana with a tilt to her chin.

“In her world she is,” Gideon answered.

“Can she really behead us?” the redhead wondered.

Gideon snorted. “No.”

“Quiet,” Magnus cut in, not because they were acting childish, but because it was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on all the other voices. Their babbling kept weaving with the threads of thought from everyone else and he needed to find Tiana’s.

He needed Zara. It was a fact he couldn’t find the sense to be embarrassed about, but he couldn’t drag her down to help either. Personal feelings aside, he wasn’t going to put her through anymore mind crap. The market had taken a large piece out of her, then the cubs. Part of him knew that if he asked her to sift through Tiana’s mind, Zara may never recover.

He’d just have to do it himself. Maybe he could get his family to leave the room. That would definitely separate the voices. Although he knew that wouldn’t happen; his dad was already getting suspicious.

Exhaling, Magnus moved forward. Tiana edged back, but there was only so far she could press herself into the chair. Her golden eyes bore warily up at him over firmly mashed lips. They met his and held, defiance reflecting in hers, contemplation in his.

“What the hell is he doing?” The voice was feminine, but it could have easily been the other four women in the room. It rattled and rolled along the walls of his skull and was almost immediately smothered by, “Maybe he’s going to kiss her for answers.” The second voice was male.

Magnus straightened and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Christ, this wasn’t working.

“Magnus?” His mother’s small, pale hand settled on his right arm. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

He was on the verge of assuring her he was fine, and to stop touching him, when the parlor doors swung open. One of Serinda’s warriors stomped over the threshold, sword unsheathed.

“What is it?” Serinda demanded, her own hand fluttering to the hilt of her weapon.

The warrior stepped aside and every muscle in Magnus’s body stiffened. His vision momentarily went red and he was moving before even he realized his own intentions.

“Get your fucking hands off her!”

The Draconian warrior immediately released his grip on Zara’s elbow. Magnus was there when she began to sink to the carpet. His arms caught her and yanked her against his chest. It was only when he had her, when she was safely with him that it dawned on him that the warrior wasn’t restraining her, but holding her up.

“Zara?” He shifted her higher, taking most of her weight. “What are you doing out of bed?”

Her small fingers curled into his sleeves. Her face tipped up and he was struck by the paleness of it, by the beads of sweat dotting her brow.

“Jesus,” he breathed, lifting one hand to touch her scalding cheek. “You’re burning up. I’m taking you back.”

She shook her head. “I’m okay.” Her fingers tightened in the material of his coat. “I need to be here.”

“Like hell you do,” he snapped. “You’re going back to bed. I’ll tie you down, if I have to.”

“I promised the children,” she retorted, sounding almost like herself again. “I told them I would help you find the people who hurt their family, and she knows something. I can hear it, but I can’t if I’m not here.”

“You can barely stand.”

She struggled to stand, to take her own weight and prove him wrong, but the effort cost her. He could see the toll setting in, stealing what remained of her coloring until even her lips were white. She made a sound between a gasp and a moan, like she couldn’t catch her breath, and Magnus had had it.

“I’m taking you back.”

He scooped her up bridal style.

“No!” she breathed. “Please.” Her head came off his shoulder and she peered at him imploringly. “For the boys.”

He wanted to tell her they meant nothing to him, but something in her eyes stopped him. He wanted to think it was pleading, but he knew defiance when he saw it. She would only come back and hurt herself even more attempting to. The only way he could keep an eye on her was to relent.

“Fine,” he muttered, turning with her still in his arms. “But you strain yourself and I will cuff you to the bed until you’re better.”

She didn’t say anything, nor did her features change, but there was just a hint of a grin on her lips that he didn’t miss.

Damn women.

He took her to the sofa, to his usual spot and started to put her down.

“No,” she murmured. “I need to be closer to her. I need to touch her.”

Magnus straightened and turned to survey the closest spot to Tiana. Finding none, he placed her gently on the edge of the coffee table.

The moment he stepped back, Tiana vaulted out of her seat as if he’d set a cobra before her. The heel of her stiletto caught the train of her dress and she nearly lost her balance, but she regained it quickly enough and staggered back. Her big eyes stared at Zara in horror that reflected in the chaos in her head.

Her inner voices screamed. The soundless noise was deafening. It lashed with ferocity, crashing against the walls of his skull until he was sure his head would explode.

“It can’t be. It can’t be!” it kept howling, making Magnus’s eyeballs rattle in their sockets.

“Tiana?” Liam started to reach for her only to have his hand smacked away.

“She knows me,” Zara realized, wonderment bright in her eyes.

Any other time, Magnus probably would have said something like, ya think? But this wasn’t one of those times.

“I think Zara broke her,” Reggie mumbled from somewhere behind Magnus.

“Maybe someone should smack her,” Valkyrie mused equally calm. “I volunteer.”

Magnus stopped listening. He turned his attention to the pale figure next to him.

“Do you know her?”

Zara shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Where did she come from?” Tiana snarled, finally finding her voice.

All eyes followed her stabbing finger to Zara, then back. No one had any answers.

“It was him,” her inner voice panicked. “He’s doing this. He released her.”

“Shut up!” Magnus roared at the outside voices and inner voices of his family, needing one of them to stop filling his head. The outer voices ceased immediately, or maybe Zara muffled them. He only knew that he could hear Tiana with a new clarity. “Who released her?”

Tiana didn’t seem to be listening to him. She was lost in the fog of her own mind.

“He’s toying with me. He deliberately went back on his word.”

“What is she talking about?” he asked Zara.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s a mess. I can’t focus.”

“Tiana.” Kyaerin took a cautious step forward. “You should sit down. I’ll make you some tea.”

Glossy eyes spun away from Zara and fixed on the blonde. “Why did you let her into your home? Why would you let that … thing into…” she broke off, panting heavily.

Kyaerin stiffened. “That thing is my son’s mate. She’s family, unlike you.”

Something in that seemed to break Tiana. She barked a laugh that bordered on unhinged.

“Family,” she repeated like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “That thing is a monster and you allowed it into your home.”

“How dare you talk that way about my daughter,” Kyaerin seethed through clenched teeth. “The only monster I see here is you, Tiana.”

“Daughter,” said Tiana’s inner voice. “That vile creature. If only Kyaerin knew.”

“Knew what?” Magnus jumped in before the thought could slip away. “How do you know Zara?”

Tiana’s gaze dropped down the length of her nose to Zara. Her lips curled in disgust.

“I’m surprised you don’t see it,” she said instead. “Especially you.” She flicked a haughty sneer up at Liam.

Liam exchanged bemused glances with Kyaerin.

“Stop playing games,” Magnus intervened. “The faster you start talking, the faster you can leave.”

“They can’t make me talk,” Tiana’s inner voice purred in delight. “I don’t have to tell them a thing, or maybe I will, but only if they give me something in return. Maybe I’ll tell them everything if they kill her right here. Slit her throat so I can watch the little bitch finally die.”

Zara sucked in a breath, but said nothing.

Magnus wasn’t so calm about it. “You touch her and I’ll skin you alive.”

Tiana blinked. Her vicious thoughts scattered. She peered at him with narrowed eyes.

“You have no idea what she is,” she said at last. “Killing her would be a mercy upon the world.”

“No one touches her,” Magnus repeated with a deadly calm that sent a chill through the room.

“Stupid boy,” her inner voice hissed. “Why can’t he see I’m trying to protect him?”

“Protect me from what?”

Suspicion crinkled her brows. Her inner voice roiled with wonder, with questions, but none answering his.

“Can you hear me?” asked her inner voice. “No, of course he can’t,” she answered herself a second later. “He has no such power, but how does he know what I’m thinking?” Her gaze slipped past him to Zara. “Unless it’s her.”

“I’m not here to harm you,” Zara told her gently. “Please. I only have questions.”

Repulse flared Tiana’s nostrils, a fine flare of disgust that she barely concealed. “Do not speak to me, you unholy demon. Had I known you would survive, I would have killed you myself.”

“Who are you?” Zara asked, seemingly unfazed by the venom. “How do you know me?”

“How could I not know you?” Tiana fumed in return. “From the moment you were born, your existence has kept me up at night. If your mother hadn’t begged me—”

“My mother?” Zara interjected, struggling to her feet, face bright with a hope that sucker punched Magnus in the gut. “You know my mother?”

Tiana mashed her lips together, a reflexive gesture to keep from saying anything else. She must not have realized they weren’t speaking verbally and her closing her mouth wouldn’t keep Zara from hearing the answers.

“I never should have listened. Not to her. Not to that lying, cheating demon!” Her inner voice actually growled in fury. “None of this would have happened if I’d just killed the little beast the moment Richella told me all those years ago.”

“Richella?” Magnus blurted.

“What about Richella?” his mother muttered with just a hint of an edge to her question.

Poisonous bitterness twisted Tiana’s grin until Magnus barely recognized her. A deep loathing unlike anything he’d ever witnessed darkened her eyes. Her thoughts clouded in a thick storm of rage.

“Don’t you see it?” she hissed, eyes on Magnus, but her question directed at his mother. “Look more closely at your precious daughter, Kyaerin. She’s practically a replica.”

Magnus had only met Tiana’s daughter Richella from a distance. The Draconian princess had always been a touchy subject in his household. Her affair with Liam eons ago still burned his mother, despite it having happened before they ever got together. So, for the sake of peace, he’d kept away from her and all topics of her.

From what he did remember, Richella had been beautiful. The dark, smoldering sort of beauty that promised a man paradise in exchange for their immortal soul. Remembering her and looking at Zara, there were no similarities that he could find. Zara was light and pure. She was delicate. Sweet. Innocent. She made him think of warm, summer afternoons, of meadows and sunlight shimmering on running water. Richella was a siren. Not a literal siren, but she had a sexual magnetism that lured men into her web where she devoured them.

So, no, Magnus didn’t see it.

But Kyaerin did. Her blue eyes took one look at Zara and widened. Her entire body hitched with the stuttered breath she attempted to inhale.

“God, she does,” her inner voice realized with more than an ounce of revulsion. “How did I not see it?”

Magnus felt Zara stiffen, felt her hurt spear through him and his own anger prickled to the surface.

“Mom!”

Kyaerin jolted. Her lashes fluttered rapidly as she came back to her senses. She blinked past Magnus and focused on Zara. Her expression immediately dissolved into one of shame and horror.

“Oh! Oh, Zara, no, please, I didn’t mean … I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Zara shook her head. “It’s all right. I understand.”

Magnus didn’t. He didn’t understand it at all, but that was a matter he’d have to discuss with his mother later.

He faced a smirking Tiana once more. “You told everyone Richella’s child was kidnapped by demons. That she was killed.”

“I had to say something,” Tiana sneered.

“You told people your granddaughter was dead, because she’s part demon?” Kyaerin broke in.

“No,” Magnus said for her, picking the answer out of Tiana’s head. “Because it was born before Richella was married to Sykes, with another man.”

“Disgraceful,” Tiana mumbled. “The shame it would have cost our bloodline. We are of royal blood. To taint that with … filth…”

“So, you sold the child,” Magnus realized. “And lied to everyone that demons had taken her.”

Tiana blinked. “I never sold her. I had her put away.”

“What does that even mean?” Riley cried.

“She gave Zara to a demon in exchange for a favor later on,” Magnus raided Tiana’s mind while it was open and flooding with information. “That favor is the reason our kind is getting killed. The demon is using her warriors to get veil creatures to join the demons in the upcoming war.”

“Who’s the demon?” Liam demanded.

“No!” Tiana shrieked. “He will kill me if he thinks I told you.”

“Baron,” Zara murmured for her. “She gave me to Baron. He must have sold me.”

Every word was hollow, listless. She sounded so tired and broken. Magnus momentarily wished he knew what to say to her, but there were too many people around, too many questions being hurled all around them.

“You gave your granddaughter to Baron?” Riley exclaimed. “Are you crazy?”

“I did what I had to,” Tiana shot back. “It was a different time back then. Women of high breeding couldn’t just have children with other species, not outside wedlock. A bastard child has no right on the throne.”

“And as eldest, it would have been her right,” Valkyrie piped in snidely. “I guess that makes Zara the Draconian princess. The next in line to the throne.”

“No,” Zara murmured before anyone could say another word. “I don’t want it. Just tell me where my father is. He’s a demon, isn’t he?”

That same triumphant gleam returned to Tiana’s eyes, a self-righteous amusement that prickled along Magnus’s neck. He recoiled when the name dropped into his head.

“You’re lying,” he spat.

Tiana smirked. “Go on,” she taunted. “Tell them.”

Magnus shook his head.

“Magnus?” His mother took an anxious step forward. “What is it?”

“Tell her.” Tiana laughed. “Tell your mother the truth. Tell her how her husband has another child with another woman.”