4. Four

Four

Tillman

Stomping back to the training fields, I can't quiet my mind.

The bleeding rage filtering through my brothers, our friends, our family seeps into me, and my regretful, erratic, murderous thoughts soak it all up like a sponge. I don't know how much more I can take.

I want more than anything to go back in time, just an hour, and change everything. I'd tell Willow she had to go with Corentin, or Draken and Caspian. I wouldn't have let her and Oakly stay in the command room, even though at the time I believed she'd be just as safe there with Ry watching as she would be with any of us.

How fucking stupid could we have been to just assume the enchantment around the gym was one of ours?

Shaking my head out does nothing to soothe the thoughts. No matter the amount of stretching out my bond does, or how hard my gift tries to pound against the barriers of her mind, I can't reach her. I can't sense her. I can't feel her.

And it's driving me crazy.

I've never loathed my position as E.F. Leader like I do at this moment. I've never loathed the role I've taken upon myself in our Nexus as the calm, centered, patient one, until now.

I want nothing more than to run off, me and my brothers, and tear this realm to pieces looking for her. I don't want to form a plan, check on E.F. members or students, or anything else. I want to hunt down every member of the Mastery and destroy them.

No interrogation, no trial, no forgiveness. Just pure eradication.

Wipe their existence so far off the map like they were never even here.

But that's not what I get to do. No, instead, I have to fucking talk to my men, talk to the Caster, form a plan, figure out how my little warrior is being shielded from us. Then and only then do I get to hunt.

"Bring me the Caster," I order as soon as we step up to the rest of team one, who's huddling around the students being healed.

"The healers are attempting to wake him, sir," one of my members immediately responds.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"He was found unconscious, sir. No physical signs of injury, but out cold, unresponsive."

A wave of power suddenly flows through the academy grounds, sending everyone who isn't my Nexus to their asses. Turning my back on my men, I glare at a brightly lit Corentin, asking him with my eyes what the hell that was for.

"We're on full lockdown. He was inside the academy and was rendered unconscious. Someone inside these wards had a hand in that. Caspian, go round up the students and staff from their rooms. Gaster, the library. Dad, the admin building. We need a head count and some questions answered," he instructs without a second thought.

His light slowly fades back into him as he reins his power in and with a clipped nod, he lets me know he's got it under control. Barely.

"Ry, take your Nexus and go pull the files on the four hotspot locations. We're going to start there and work our way through," I order, turning and marching in the direction of the healers.

With each step, I inhale and exhale in a controlled rhythm, trying to hide the rapid beating of my heart. The thought that someone inside this academy has also betrayed us has my fist clenching and teeth grinding together.

The primal need to rip people to shreds passes through Draken and into me. His bloodthirsty want to destroy someone, anyone, is flooding me and I can hardly contain the urge.

"Do you need to shift?" I face him fully and ask. I understand what he's feeling. I need her back. I'm livid on a whole other level, but it's fucking distracting me completely, and it's slowing us down.

"I can't," he grits out.

"Can't or won't?"

"Both. If I shift, he'll take full control."

The effort it's taking him to say those words is obvious. His face is straining painfully, and his eyes bounce back and forth between glowing slits, to fiery round cobalt orbs. I see the truth to his words in both sets, his beast openly showing he's ready and willing to burn it all to the ground.

I need him to focus on something other than murdering everyone since he can't contain his own thoughts. Even in his mind, his voice is deepened, laced in an animalistic tone that tells me all I need to know about who's truly in charge.

Steeling myself, I call forth my magic and gift and fucking pray what I'm about to do will help rather than get me laid out, but something has to give. When his eyes flash to slits, I release my power.

"Give Draken back full control. I swear to you, we're going to find her. Calm down," I command.

A growl has Draken's lip tipping upward in a vicious snarl and I brace myself for his attack, but slowly, the growl fades out, and his eyes gradually shift back to normal. Leaving mournful, bright cobalt eyes staring back at me.

"That was a risky trick," he murmurs.

"Worth it. You good?"

"For now." He sighs in both relief and desperation.

I take that as my sign to get moving. We can't linger any longer as the minutes seem to be ticking by at the speed of light. It feels like seconds ago I watched her disappear right in front of me when really, it's been over thirty minutes and she's already been hurt.

Striding back toward the healers, I approach Dr. Evie, who's working on the Caster. Her focus is sharp as she gently moves her fingers in circles around his temples. There's a slight gleam of sweat forming on her brow and her concentration is unwavering even as I step up and clear my throat.

"Something's keeping him in a stasis and blocking my efforts to wake and heal him. There're drugs streaming through his blood, but I can't heal that until I can get his mind back," she reports without glancing at me.

"May I?" I ask, reaching my hand out to place on his forehead.

When she pulls her magic back, I press my palm to his clammy skin and push in to see what I can see. Which is nothing.

His mind is empty as if it's been wiped clean, but this isn't permanent damage. I sense his memories fluttering about behind the black drape, trying to break through the command holding them hostage.

This block doesn't feel as invasive or as strong as those the Summum-Master left behind, but just to be sure he isn't the traitor himself, I remove my hand from his forehead and move the collar of his shirt down, looking for the mark of the Mastery. Lucky for him, there isn't one, and I don't second-guess myself as I peel the block away gently.

I jump back as he rolls to his side and throws up, groaning in pain as it continues coming up. His bodily fluids don't deter Dr. Evie in the least bit, and she springs right into action, laying her hand on his stomach to ease the sickness and dissolve the drug that's coursing through him.

"Give me just a moment to check him over and then you can question him. He's been given a very hefty dose of some sort of tonic." She cuts her eyes to me, basically telling me to back the hell off for a second as I stand over her shoulder, watching everything she's doing.

I pointedly ignore her request until squeals and cries behind me draw my attention away. Caspian has three third year girls wrapped in his shadows, withering and begging to be set free, but he disregards their request, looking at them as if he's seconds away from snapping their necks.

"What's going on?" Corentin and I ask at the same time.

"Guess who's missing and these three refuse to answer my questions about her whereabouts," Caspian says, shaking the girls around, making them sob and wail louder.

Their shrills are cut off when he slaps tendrils of shadows across their mouths, laughing and taunting them mercilessly as their tears and snot continue to stream down their faces. Now that they're more subdued, recognition of who they are comes to me and I take a meaningful step toward them.

That fucking cunt.

"Where the hell is Gima?" I ask firmly.

They obviously can't answer me out loud, so I forcefully push my way into their heads, painfully tearing out all information I may need.

"Gima Everglow?" my Uncle Dyce asks.

"Yeah, obsessive, crazy stalker bitch." Draken growls in response.

I pay them no mind as I sift through as many conversations as I can between these girls and her. Never once has she mentioned the Mastery or her involvement with these three, but there's a lot of talk about what her father has promised her and what he tells her to do. Apparently, her obsession with Corentin hasn't been all that fabricated from her own delusional thoughts. Her father vowed he'd—we'd be hers.

"Tillman, anything?" Corentin asks me as if he knows I'm gathering information that pertains to him.

"They don't know anything of the Mastery, and Gima's never mentioned them. Before the attack, she left their room and when one of them asked where she was going, she told her to mind her own fucking business. And it seems Gima's father promised her we'd be her Nexus, no matter what. It was decided," I inform him, and he immediately whips around to his dad.

"There hasn't been talk of any arranged pairing, son. You know how your mother feels about that," Uncle Dyce swears, which cools the rage in Corentin's eyes, but his wheels are turning.

"We need to find Gima. Either she's been taken as well or she played a role in this, which tells us her family is one of two betraying us."

Taking that statement, letting it stew in my mind, I turn to make my way back to the Caster, and again the agonizing thoughts of what I could've, should've done, rear their ugly heads. Dwelling on the woulda, coulda, shouldas is a pointless waste of my time and thoughts, but I can't help it.

I should've pushed him to kick her out, consequences from her family be damned, because now there's a possibility, a large possibility, that bitch is the reason Willow is gone and why it was so easy for them to attack an academy full of highly gifted students.

"Mr. Blythe, can you tell me what happened to the wards?" I say as soon as I march back up to him and Dr. Evie. My pleasantries are null, but if he's well enough to sit up and drink water on his own, he's well enough to answer questions.

"I'm sorry, Leader Tillman. I can't seem to recall anything," he says regretfully.

"I believe Mr. Blythe was given a memory tonic. His symptoms and loss of short-term memories align with what we've seen from some of the hostages we've treated," Dr. Evie concludes, but I'm not willing to accept that.

"If it's okay with you, Mr. Blythe, I'd like to take a look myself," I state. Regardless, if he says no, I'm looking anyways. I'll get a much clearer picture if he allows me to touch him, though.

"Sure, sure, of course," he easily agrees, passing his cup to Dr. Evie.

As gently as I can since I mean him no harm, I push my magic across his mind, diving deeper and deeper into his subconscious. This is always where I would become stumped when I tried to help and question the hostages who we rescued from the Mastery.

I could sense memories floating around, but they'd be so garbled and muddled that I could never make sense of them. Or if they'd been poisoned enough times, the memory would appear as nothing more than a murky spot, a hole where a memory should reside.

In my search, I look and listen for any mention or involvement of the Mastery but thankfully find none. Setting my intentions clear to show me his memories of the day, I'm taken right to the moment he wakes up. Speeding forward, rather than watching his mundane morning routine, there's a small blimp in time where the picture of his routine goes from crystal clear to murky as he settles into his office. There's a hazy residue surrounding the memory and I can tell it's the remnants of the tonic.

That's what I need.

Okay, little warrior, let's see if my gift has strengthened with our bond.

With Willow as my sole motivation and determination, I push my gift a little harder, commanding the remains of the tonic to clear and for the fragments of the memory to piece itself back together.

Like watching the morning fog fade from the forest trees, the distortion clears and the memory surfaces.

A knock at the door sounds, and Mr. Blythe's head pops up from his work, a warm smile adorning his face at the sign of company.

"Ah, Miss Everglow, good morning. What can I do for you?"

"Good morning, Mr. Blythe." Gima's fake, high-pitched voice sounds, and painted-on smile fills the doorway as she lets herself in and plops down in the chair across from him. "I wanted to drop by and see if there was still a spot open on your ward rotation. I really could use some work on my casting and figured what better place to look for help than from the best in the academy."

He beams at her obvious attempt at flattering and excitedly stands from his chair, moving over to a stack of papers on one of his shelves.

"Oh, how wonderful. Yes, yes, of course there's room. I'd never turn away an eager student ready to learn. I just need you to fill out this intake form. You can do it right now and we can go ahead and see where a rotation best fits your schedule," he says, his hand outstretched for her to take the piece of paper.

Instead of the paper, Gima latches on to his hand, her eyes flaring to life in concentration, the telltale sign she's using her gift.

"You should finish your morning drink before it gets cold, Mr. Blythe," Gima suggests, not even attempting to hide the fact she's pouring a vial right into his mug. He watches her every move, but still, he reaches out and chugs the contents down.

"Good, I'm sure it tasted amazing. Now, you should lower the wards for me. Just the ones on the east side by the training fields. It'll give me better practice getting them back up." Her voice comes out in a low pitch, smooth like butter.

"Yes, it'll be great practice." His voice slowly agrees, nodding with a dazed and confused look in his eye.

She stands from her seat, gliding her fingers upward toward his shoulders, so his hands are free to unknowingly sign the spell and speak the incantation to bring the wards down. Not a minute later, the alarm blares and Mr. Blythe startles, his eyes gaining clarity for a split second before Gima cups both of his cheeks.

"You've worked so hard this morning, Mr. Blythe. You should take a nap and get some rest," Gima whispers softly, guiding him down into his office chair.

"Yes, a nap sounds—" He's out cold faster than he could finish his sentence.

Coming out of the memory, my chest heaves as I struggle to regulate my breathing and stay calm. I remove my hand from Mr. Blythe's head and take a step back, clenching my jaw tightly.

"Oh my. Leader Tillman, Headmaster Vito, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault." He apologizes, mortification and regret reflecting in his eyes.

"What do you—"

"It's not your fault, Mr. Blythe. You never would've suspected her to use her gift on you in such a way. Excuse us, we have a lot of work to do," I grit out, turning from him and Dr. Evie and making my way to the gym.

"Gaster, finish the head count, please," Corentin orders as he makes his way to my side, Caspian, Draken, and Uncle Dyce following right along with me.

"Gima used her gift to make Mr. Blythe drink the memory tonic, then persuaded him to lower the wards by the training grounds. There's no doubt her family is one of the two," I announce as soon as we step into the command room with Ry and his Nexus. Quickly, I fill everyone in on what I just learned, then turn my attention to the files on the four locations spread across the table.

"I'm going to snap that bitch's neck." Oakly sneers.

"Get in line, Perfecta Anima ," Caspian says coldly but gently for his standards.

"Ry, report," I order.

"There's one hotspot in each territory. We have their coordinates. The sizing, based on the descriptions pulled together from the interrogations, implies they're all similar in build to the prison you were held in. No information on possible guards, wards, or if they're still active, but it's a good assumption that they are."

"This will take far too long to hit individually, and we need the element of surprise on our side, so they don't move her. Uncle Dyce, go gather all the E.F. members who are healed and ready to go. Bring them into the gym. Corentin, get Lucas here," I order as I pull my communicator out of my pocket.

"Tillman. I wasn't—"

"Lyker, the academy's been attacked, and Willow's been taken. There's a hot spot location in Terian. Send Rhett's team here to the academy so I can put him in charge of that location. We're pulling out as soon as possible," I inform him briefly.

I end the call as the silence on the other end stretches longer than I have patience for. He'll send him like I asked, but I don't have time to talk him through his surprise or shock, or whatever the fuck it was keeping him from responding.

Running the numbers back from the mission Corentin organized, he assembled six teams of eight to accompany them when they rescued me and Caspian. No one was injured badly or killed, so with the eight E.F. teams we have at the academy right now, Rhett's, Ry's, my Nexus, and my uncle, we'll have to make do with that.

Loud footsteps fall, echoing through the gym, and I hear my uncle ordering everyone to get in team formations. These men here, apart from Lyker, Rhett, and Lucas, are by far the strongest group I've had the privilege of working with. Even those who just got in and have barely gotten acclimated jumped straight into the fray this morning, ready and willing to do exactly what was necessary to protect the students and the academy. They showed no fear, no hesitation, and that's what I need now.

Stepping out of the command room, I skim over the huge group gathering around now silently, waiting for orders. I falter slightly on the last three teams lined up when I notice we're a couple men short. Two groups are two men short, and the last is one man short.

The sinking truth hits my gut like a ton of bricks and guilt nearly swallows me whole. By the red-rimmed eyes and muscles shaking from adrenaline, five men lost their lives today. Three Nexuses were torn apart, severed from one another in the most painful ways.

I meet each of the men's mourning, sorrowful stares and let my condolences and promise of retribution bleed through my eyes. I won't let this go unpunished. The nod they all give me is an acceptance of my promise, and they're ready to get out of here.

"We're moving out—"

The beginning of my brief is cut off when two transports open and out the first step Lucas and his brothers. Then the second, out step Lyker, his entire Nexus, including Aria, Rhett and his Nexus, and twelve other wolves I semi recognize from the pack. All dressed to the T in uniforms, ready for battle.

"You didn't think you could call me with news like that and not expect me to show up," Lyker says as he approaches us and claps me on the back.

"You have other responsibilities now. I can't pull you away from that."

"I gave fortune teller my word if she ever needed us, we'd be here for her. I meant that. We're here for whatever you need," he says seriously, leaving no room for an argument.

My gut clenches painfully at the use of her nickname. Not that I give a fuck he's given her one. She reassured us it's just friendly, and I know what Aria is to them even if they don't. But it's the name itself.

She knew this was coming and she had to keep it all to herself. Now she's hurt, in pain, having to deal with who knows fucking what, while we scramble our asses together to find her.

"My Nexus will assign you your locations and provide you with what little information we have. This is a blind mission. If you haven't figured it out yet, our Primary was the only person captured today. She sacrificed herself in exchange for all the students and E.F. members to be set free. She is our objective. Our only objective. If you find her at your location, you are to protect her with your life and inform me immediately."

"What are we to do with Mastery members?" a palace team member calls out.

"Kill on sight."

In a few short hours, there's no more patience or fucks left for us to give. Corentin finally told Gaster to handle it all while we move out and now we're standing on the uneven, rocky terrain of Pyrathia with Caspian's shadows cloaking us in darkness as we observe the structure in front of us. The building's overall design is much like the prison we were held in, but instead of gray stone, it's been formed from layers of volcanic rock.

I decided our Nexus, Ry's, and one of the palace teams would take this location, hoping for two things. One, Oakly can get a sense of Willow, whether she's here or has been here. And two, she can also get a sense if that traitorous bitch Gima is or has been here too. This is her home territory, so it'd make sense for her to run home to her daddy.

"No signs or trace of Gima. She hasn't been here, nor do I sense her anywhere within my range," Oakly whispers with her eyes closed and head tilted to the skies.

"Disappointing but no surprise. I'm sure her father has her under max protection," Corentin grumbles.

"Willow," Oakly breathes quietly, but we all hear it.

With a fearsome, feral growl, Draken fucking takes off, not giving any of us a moment to stop him.

"Draken. DRAKEN," I yell. "Fuck. Oakly, is she here?"

"No, but she was."

Sprinting ahead faster than I've ever seen him move, Draken's feet barely touch the ground as his body morphs into a partial shift with every step he takes. Blue flames lick and dance across his auburn scales, burning so hot, I swear I can feel their heat from the thirty-foot distance he already put between us. With a laugh equally feral to his growl, Caspian fades through the darkness to follow.

"Shit. When did that happen?" my uncle asks in awe, staring at Draken with so much pride and amazement.

"When he bonded. Ry, how many bodies?" I shout as the whole group of us start charging across the rubble. No preparation, no plan, we all just run after them in sheer anger and desperation.

"At least forty. They're about to be on their own in a room full of them."

Sucks for them.

Piling in through the small doorway, the maybe twenty-second head start Draken and Caspian had was plenty of time for them to create a gruesome sight. Bodies lay about with their heads nearly hanging off their shoulders but not completely severed. I guess Draken didn't think it was worth finishing the job fully and Caspian is using his shadows to hand member after member off to him.

Standing in the center of the room, he's created a fortress of fire surrounding him, blocking the rest of the room from reaching him, while bellowing in a scared shitless Mastery member's face, "Where is she?"

"I…I…"

With a single impatient growl, he rips his throat out and slings his limp body into the forming crowd of Mastery soldiers. More of them pile in through the stairway in the corner of the room, now fully aware of the commotion going on down here, but it's a useless feat for them. The eighteen of us are far outnumbered, but we surprised them with our arrival, and we have something far more important to fight for.

We'll fight for her until our dying breaths.

Caspian commands his shadows out, and with a crazed, bloodthirsty laugh begins ripping people apart left and right. Neither he nor Draken make anything about their kills clean or merciful. They're both in their element, seeking the revenge and retribution they want. Without Willow here, there isn't much to calm the murderous tendencies of these two.

Corentin isn't nearly as messy with his kills but just as ruthless. Walking around calm and controlled, like he owns this place, he simply blinds his prey, bringing them down to their knees in front of him as he lords over them. With a small flick of his wrist, he has their lungs exploding, then he gracefully steps over their bodies and moves on to the next.

I command the rock to liquefy, causing at least five of the scum to fall into my sticky abyss before I seal it back up, hardening it and burying them alive. Any mental blocks I sense, I tear down, and if their hearts don't fall out, I plunge a vine straight through it.

In minutes, we all stand in the center of a massacre, untouched, unharmed, but just as vengeful and desperate. I feel it pouring off all of us. Yeah, we may have just rid the realm of forty pieces of shit, but we didn't find what we wanted to.

"Where is she?" Draken snarls, breathing heavy enough that smoke blows through his nostrils.

"She was here, but they moved her. We're getting closer, Draken. Any more bodies, Ry? Hostages or anyone?" I ask.

"No, that was all that was here."

Nodding, I head back out the door and take a deep, clean breath. I guess I had gotten used to the smell, but now standing in the fresh air, the inside of the structure reeks of charred flesh and blood. The evidence of that follows us out here in the breeze, making my nose twitch and my teeth clench.

What we just did was vile, pure animalistic, but we're about to do it again, and I don't feel a shred of guilt over it. Pulling my communicator out, I dial Lyker. I didn't expect our stop to start and finish this fast, so I'm giving him a heads-up that we're heading his way.

"Tillman."

"I assume since you answered, you haven't infiltrated yet."

"No. We're looking for the best way to go about this. This structure is swarmed. There're at least fifty soldiers outside, a ward, and no telling what's going on inside. Give me an hour and we'll be ready to move in."

"We'll be there in a minute," I declare, then end the call.

Turning back to the structure and everyone else, I relay the message and they all nod, ready to go, no questions asked. Surrounding me readying for transport, I can't take my eyes off the smoke slowly wafting through the open door, curling around the volcanic walls, then being carried away by the wind.

Something about how it's still standing strong enrages me, like it's mocking me. The power we transfer when we use our elements to build or make things is an extension of us. Our creations become self-sufficient, almost sentient over time. Like the mansion, it runs seamlessly on its own now from the years, centuries of power put into it, directing it, fortifying it.

And this structure here is the same. It's bathed in innocent blood. Disgusting, inhumane things have been carried out in its walls. Not just what we've done, but definitely what the Mastery has done. Beatings, rapes, torture, things that are hard to talk about, things that never should've happened, bleed out and into its foundation.

It has to come down.

Stretching my arm out, I command the rock to crumble. Become nothing more than the ash that falls from the sky after Pyra releases one of her glorious eruptions. Some of the black particles fly through the air while the others I return to the earth.

Everyone feels the finality in the atmosphere as soon as the last of the ash disappears. There's a pulsing weight to it, a conclusion. The Mastery's end is coming. One structure at a time.

Holding my arm out, no words need to be said. My Nexus latches on and with a nod to Ry and the palace team, we transport to the coordinates I gave to Lyker.

"Well, I thought with how quickly you called, your location was clear, but I can see that wasn't the case," Lyker remarks with an arched brow, taking in the gory sight of all of us as we approach him and his group.

"It's clear now," Caspian retorts darkly, his eyes scanning the surrounding woods. "How far from the structure are we?"

"Quarter mile. I've got two of my guys in their shifted forms running the perimeter and another standing watch at the tree line."

"Ry, take your Nexus and get a body count. Oakly, see if you sense anything," I order and they all head off through the thickening trees.

"What was your structure like?" Lyker asks.

"Large volcanic rock, single-entry structure. Forty bodies, no wards or hostages. But Oakly could sense that she'd been there," I reply, clipped.

"So we're on her trail," he says hopefully, and as much as I believe that too, I don't have the composure right now to express my hope.

Staring across the number of people we have with us, I have no doubt we'll be outnumbered here as well with what he reported, but with the emotions still rolling viciously off my Nexus, off everyone honestly, it's not going to matter.

"You all right?" I ask Corentin as he comes to stand beside me. I know the answer. It's the same as mine, but he obviously has something he wants to say.

"No. Are you still blocked from her?"

"Yeah." I grunt.

I've tried tirelessly since banging on the doors at the gym to reach her mind. At that point in time, she was purposely blocking me out. I could feel her pushing me away, but now, there's more than just her effort keeping me from reaching her. There isn't a shadow of a doubt that she's still alive, though. My weeping bond that's going ballistic in my chest is fully intact, begging for hers to respond to it.

Cracking limbs and heavy footfalls draw our attention back to the tree line where Ry and his Nexus reappear through the covering. There's no hint of fear or worry etched on any of their faces, so whatever they've picked up, they're either not concerned about, or like everyone else, their fury is fueling their motivations.

"The ward's just a detection enchantment. The moment we bring it down, it'll set an alarm, but it's not going to keep us out," Nikoli, with a twitch in his nose from using his gift, states confidently as soon as they approach.

"Fifty-three outside and another forty inside. In addition to those inside, there're another twenty-one motionless forms. I'm assuming hostages," Ry reports. Turning to Oakly, I know her answer just based on her facial expression.

"She was here. Not anymore."

"So they're bringing her in, then moving her. Why?" Lyker asks.

"'Cause it messes with my tracking. Little bits and pieces of her signature are left behind but not enough to follow her path. It would've been stronger if she'd used her magic at any point in time, but she didn't, either location. I don't know if it's because she couldn't or wouldn't. Now wherever she is, she's completely blocked off from me," Oakly says angrily.

She's fighting back tears of rage. Her thoughts aren't as wild and murderous as ours, but she's beating herself into the ground. Blaming herself for Willow being in this situation and she can't find her.

"You're the best tracker I've ever met. None of this is your fault. You and I both know Willow wouldn't be happy with your train of thought," I tell her sternly.

"I don't see how Willow tolerates all that eavesdropping. It'd drive me mad," she teasingly snarks back with watery eyes and a tilt of her lip.

"This is what they've been doing with all the hostages, this whole time. Bouncing them from location to location to throw off the tracking. Based on what Oakly just said, I'd bet the reason Lucas's team was picking up anything with the tracking spells was the hostage used their magic. Then wherever they end up, they're in concealed locations, pocket dimensions, or the nonmagical realm just like you learned from Layton." Corentin pieces together.

The revelation makes my gut revolt and I squeeze my eyes shut. Firmly planting my feet in the ground to stop my swaying, I swallow down the bile that's threatening to spew everywhere.

All three of those possibilities would be exactly why I can't get through to her mind, why my bond can't reach her, and why Oakly can't track her. If they've moved her out of Elementra and into the nonmagical realm, we're nowhere near prepared to get her. Gaster's never taken someone out of Elementra. He's only ever brought Willow in, so there's no telling if he could transport us there to search.

There're too many unknowns about the Forbidden Forest to get to the portal. Going in ill-prepared is a suicide mission. And as ready and willing as I am to do that to bring her home, if she isn't there and something happened to one of us, she'd lose so much of herself.

No, she's still in this realm. I won't accept anything else.

"Ry, try to get in touch with the other two locations. If they're cleared like ours was, have them come here. We're taking down this location, then moving on from there," I command.

Another hour passes before both other groups arrive to join us. The Aeradora location was taken down first, with only thirty soldiers and six live hostages. The Aquaria location posed more of a problem with a little over fifty soldiers, eighteen hostages, and three of my men were hurt.

All three of those men belong to the Nexuses that lost their brothers today. I'm positive their carelessness stems from the pure adrenaline and hatred brewing in their souls right now.

I can't or at least won't hold them at fault for that. They're hurting. A piece of them is dying inside right now. So if obliterating members of the society that caused them that pain is what they need, despite how reckless they may handle it, it's completely up to them. I won't stop them from joining us when Jamie finishes healing them.

"Everyone knows the plan. Let's—"

A hiss to my left has me pausing as I stare at Draken to see what he has going on. His face is a mask of confusion mixed with a little discomfort, and he looks at me, Corentin, and Caspian.

"What's wrong?" Caspian asks, taking a step closer to him.

"I'm not sure. It feels like something—Ahhh," he cries out, dropping to his knees.

Caspian's shadows shoot out, barricading us in as Draken's screaming gets louder and louder. Every time one of us tries to touch him, he shoves us away. We watch in confused concern as he frantically starts ripping his shirt to shreds. I hear Uncle Dyce's gasp the second it falls from his lips, and my attention zeroes in on the beacon of light blazing from Draken's body.

There at the junction of his shoulder and neck, his silver mating mark is shining brighter than a diamond and he's desperately trying to rub at it as if he can rub the pain away.

"Draken, what's going on? Tell me what it feels like." My uncle kneels in front of him and grabs his face between his hands.

"It fucking hurts. It's killing me. What kind of stupid question is that?" Draken growls out between his locked teeth.

"Shit," Dyce mumbles, looking at all of us with wide, worried eyes.

"Someone has five seconds to tell me what the fuck is happening?" Corentin demands.

"A mate's message," both Dyce and San say at the same time, and our gazes bounce between the two of them in confusion.

"No, please no. It can't be," Draken whispers in horror, tears forming in his eyes.

"Willow's sending him a message," San answers our glares vaguely.

"Could you be more specific?" I ask frustratedly.

Before he can expand, Draken lets out a mournful roar, nothing like his fury filled one that'd have this entire land quaking. This one is agonized, gut-wrenching, like someone is reaching into his chest and prying his heart out. Something just happened to our Primary. I know it. The sight of him speaks volumes, and the small touch of his pain that flows from him to my bond confirms it.

"From what I've gathered on my own, it's easy to assume Willow doesn't know all there is to know about these kinds of things." Dyce glances around, looking for confirmation, and at my nod he continues, "To send a mate's message, you or anything really can stroke your mark and pass on a feeling. Your mom could caress her mark if she was feeling happy, excited, sad, anything, then think about me intently, and I'd feel it in mine. It's different than the bond. Only the two of us can sense it."

"But Mom isn't a shifter."

"Even non-shifters can mark a shifter mate. They just have to break the skin," Dyce says, turning his attention back to Draken.

"What the fuck are you feeling, Draken?" Caspian demands, understanding crossing his face, putting together what I've already summarized.

Rocking back and forth on all fours, tears flow down Draken's face, scorching the grass with every drop as he snarls and growls, trying to hold back the pain he's feeling. Shaking his head, he refuses to look up at any of us, refuses to speak.

Kneeling down on trembling legs, I place my hand on his shoulder and squeeze. The surrounding sound doesn't penetrate the ringing in my ears his rage-filled cries brought on, and every time he punches the ground, I hold in a flinch. The rapid succession of them makes me believe he's pounding the earth in sync with her pain and the assumption slices away at my heart, my soul. Something inside of me seems to break.

Rage, concern, sadness are too mediocre to even begin describing the emotions blooming within me. I've always thought I understood Caspian's desire for giving in to the darkness, but with these uncontrollable feelings tramping through me, I realize I've never truly understood until this moment.

If I could fade into nothingness, I'd destroy any and everything to get to her. I'd crumble cities, bend the land, the mountains themselves would shake with every step I took across this realm to find her. I'd crawl to her, bathe in the blood of both innocent and foe alike. No one in my path would be safe, no one would stop me.

Fuck, how easy it'd be to just throw morals to the side. Everyone else be damned.

"Brother." I snap my eyes open and collide with Caspian's as he squeezes the back of my neck. He knows exactly what I was just thinking. It's unnerving how he can sense the darkness rising in others, like it calls to him.

From the years I've known him, I guess the look in his eyes has just become normal to me, and when Will would refer to them as haunted in her mind, I never quite saw what she did, but as I hold his gaze now, I see it, and I see the incredible strength it's taken him all these years not to give in to his darkest desires. He lets it lurk there on the outskirts but never lets it take over fully. This situation has me a millisecond away from saying fuck it all, while he's been battling it for eighteen years.

"You back?" he asks.

"Yeah." I grunt, and with a nod, he focuses back on Draken while I pull myself together.

Minutes seem to pass by before Draken stops rocking and wipes his face clean, finally lifting his head to us. His muscles tremble as he sits back on his heel and lifts his face to the sky, taking deep breaths.

"Time to end these fuckers and find my little wanderer," he states so calmly as he pushes himself to his feet, I'm almost fearful for anyone else to be around him outside of us.

"You okay?" I ask slowly.

"I will be in just a minute. Let's go."

Shit.

Obviously, Caspian feels no need to wrangle whatever murderous demons are lurking below Draken's surface because he graces him with a devilish smirk rather than the serious expression I received.

Turning to the concerned and slightly fearful small army of E.F. members who've just watched this entire thing go down, I narrow my eyes and they all stand at the ready.

"Move out," I order, and as one, we all run through the trees until we reach the ward.

On my signal, we force our way through the barrier and sprint toward the oblivious soldiers mulling around. No more than a second goes by before their alarm blares and they jump to attention, scrambling to get into their positions.

The goal is for us to draw as many of them out of the building and bring the fighting outside, away from the hostages, but if Ry senses they start moving people, we'll push forward and get a team inside.

The cracking of bones fills the air as Lyker shifts, his sleek black wolf taking form, followed closely by the shifters he brought with him. Throwing his head back, he lets out a deafening howl that has the Mastery's wolves dropping to their knees, shaking violently as they attempt and fail to fight off his Alpha call.

Traitors. All of them.

No element nor a gift has been cast from our side yet, only deflection of the ones the Mastery has sent out, and the moment we collide with their soldiers, it's evident why.

My guys are making this personal.

They want an up-close fight, where they can feel the bone break beneath their fist, see the blood spray and the life leave their eyes. The seasoned, well-trained warriors I've been preparing for years are nowhere to be found on this battlefield. Instead, we resemble savages, beasts reacting only on baser instincts.

Every member who comes across me, I force my mind as deeply as I can into theirs, soaking up and pulling out any helpful information I can find before making their brains melt to nothing. I watch blood pool from their eyes, ears, noses, mouths, leaving them there in a puddle of their own essence as I move on to the next.

More Mastery members pile out of the structure, and even more arrive through transports, but still, we fight viciously, mercilessly. The moment the flood of members quit coming out the single entry, the palace teams head in as we planned to start moving the hostages out.

The small number left in the clearing is nothing we can't handle and before I know it, Caspian's dropping the last of the men limply at his feet. With labored breaths, we all stand in tense silence, letting our eyes bounce across the bodies, making sure we didn't lose any more of our own.

I'm not ashamed to admit the pride swelling in my chest as I glance at my brothers, my uncle, best friends, and team members, covered from head to toe in bloody gore. Every single one of them who crossed that ward with me is still standing tall. They did this for me, my Nexus, our fallen brothers, and most importantly, my Primary.

"Draken, start burning bodies. When the palace team finishes with hostages, we'll regroup and head back to the academy to—"

Crackling across my mind causes me to pause and I scout the tree line for any signs of anyone out there who may have gotten away and maybe watching us. I've always been able to tell when someone's trying to push their magic on me or read my thoughts, and no one's been able to penetrate my fortress unless I allow it.

Pushing the intruder out, I continue to search the area, but the crackling just gets stronger and stronger until I feel a slight fracture in my wall and I frantically rebuild, shoving them out as hard and fast as I can. For a moment, there's a small pause, no immediate intrusion or force to tear my thoughts from me. Then I feel it…a sweet, tender caress. It's like…

"I love you so much, Tillman. I love you all, and I always will."

That broken whimper brings me to my knees faster than I can force them to stand strong and I stare wide-eyed at my brothers. My chest clenches so painfully, I instinctively rub my hand across it, trying to ease the pressure. I feel the prickling of tears forming in my eyes, and I don't have the mental strength to push them away.

My little warrior.

Please don't let this be goodbye.

"Willow."