4. Eli

4

ELI

T hankfully, Levi ditched us as soon as he'd delivered us to the meeting. We found ourselves in a small room at the back of Charlie's restaurant—it was crowded and cramped but had been repurposed into a cluttered conference room of sorts.

He didn't say so, but I knew he was going back to sit with my father, and as much as I wanted to hate him for encroaching, for being the one my father seemed to turn to in those moments when he lost himself, I was also grateful that my dad wouldn't be alone.

Atlas was locked next to Max, a silent sentinel.

He still hadn't spoken much to the rest of us, but every day he seemed to be getting a little bit better, a little more like himself. The problem was that Atlas was a bit of a quiet, surly loner even when he was his usual, brooding self. That made gauging any improvement in his mental state difficult.

He didn't leave his room, other than to use the bathroom. Max crawled into bed with him each night in an effort to help comfort him, to combat some of the lingering dread tugging at his mind .

It was almost like he was relearning how to fit inside of his skin, his world—and she was the key to helping him do it.

I had a feeling that the dark shadows that seemed to encase him would linger for a long time though. None of us really knew what he went through, and Max didn't talk too much about the glimpses she'd seen in her dreamwalks to him. She didn't want to betray his trust, to tell his story.

I respected the hell out of her for it, but respect and understanding did nothing to quell my curiosity or my concern.

But I knew from the brief things she did tell us—the fear that flickered in her expression whenever we brought up his name, the way she spent most of the evenings in his room, trying to coax him out of his shell and soothe whatever invisible scars he harbored, her obsession with healing Sarah—that what he was going through would take time.

Maybe even a lifetime.

Honestly, it was something that he actually let her see him like this. Atlas wasn't one for being comforted, for allowing someone to see him in his most raw and vulnerable state.

I supposed I shouldn't have been surprised though. Max had that effect on us all. The ability to get in and truly see us—even the parts of us we wanted to hide. It's why we'd all been so fucking terrified of getting too close to her. The fear that she'd see the worst we had to offer and leave.

She hadn't though. And I was beginning to realize that we'd done her a disservice in assuming she was the kind of person who'd bail.

Atlas wasn't himself, but the fact that he was letting Max get a glimpse of the pain he was enduring had me confident he would be himself again.

One day.

Ideally it would happen before the impending apocalypse, but we couldn't afford to be picky.

He shifted awkwardly, limbs stiff, and I knew it took everything in him not to run back to our cabin, back to the dark shelter of the room he'd taken over. This was the first time since his return that he'd left, the first time he'd settled into a room all of us occupied. His discomfort shone through every muscle twitch, every nervous sidelong glance at us.

A door opened and Charlie and Bishop walked in. Behind them was a tall white man with dark red hair knotted in a bun on his head, and an East-Asian woman with a sharp, black bob. I hadn't seen either of them around the Lodge yet.

And I didn't give either of them much attention because it was the last person who walked in that made my stomach bottom out.

Evelyn.

I'd done a damn good job of avoiding her when she was at Headquarters, and an even better job since arriving here.

But apparently that avoidance spree was ending now.

Her eyes locked on mine, her lips lifting into a small, tentative smile, but it disappeared when I offered her blankness in response.

It took everything I had to swallow the anxiety lodged in my throat, my chest damn near like a vise at just the sight of her.

An unfamiliar emotion flashed across her expression—hurt, maybe—before she covered it up with the usual protector mask and greeted the others with a stiff nod.

"Thanks for joining us." Either oblivious to the tension or kindly ignoring it, Charlie smiled before gesturing to the mismatched swivel chairs surrounding the large, wooden table we were all hovering around. "Why don't we all take a seat and get comfortable?"

Without a word, we all shuffled to an available chair. It was an almost comical moment of musical chairs, each set of hinges squeaking loudly under the weight of bodies. The room was a far cry from the command centers where we'd received our mission at Headquarters .

It wasn't until all the other spots had been taken that I realized the only available seat left was directly across from my mother.

Fuck today.

I bit the insides of my cheeks and gripped the arms of the chair, trying like hell to keep my face blank, even as my traitorous fingers trembled with anxiety.

In that moment, I hated myself. Hated that I couldn't swallow back my own bullshit and wear the mask I'd spent a decade perfecting. Hated that my mother had this effect on me. I felt so small, powerless in her presence. Like I was suddenly the same little boy she'd abandoned all those years ago.

There were more important things going on, and I so badly wanted the strength to push all my personal shit aside.

Max lined the side of her foot against mine and I froze, briefly, before relaxing and leaning into the soft pressure of hers in thanks. The simple reminder of her presence, that she was with me and on my side, was like a fresh gulp of water after weeks in the desert.

"This isn't all of our community representatives," Charlie started, glancing around at everyone, her eyes wide and shining with warmth, "but it will do for our purposes today."

"And what purposes are those?" Darius asked, his voice uncharacteristically frigid. I hadn't spoken to him much over the last week—all of us were spread thin, busy helping out in various capacities around the campgrounds—but something about him seemed a little…off.

Tense.

Hungry.

He hadn't bothered taking a seat. He was the only one standing, leaning against the wall behind Max's chair. Typically, I'd find his obnoxious behavior, well, obnoxious, but right now I was honestly glad to have one of us at Max's six. The girl attracted danger and enemies like no one I'd ever met. And while I trusted Charlie and Bishop reasonably well, I hadn't met everyone who lived in this small community. We were outnumbered and in the middle of nowhere.

Bishop's dark gaze drilled into him. Whatever animosity he'd once harbored for the vampire was still very, very much alive, but Darius paid him no attention.

"Well—" it was strange, I hadn't really heard it in years, but Evelyn's voice—soft but sure—cut through me like a goddamn knife. I tensed at the sound of it. There had been so many nights I'd woken up wishing more than anything that that voice would come comfort me back to sleep and ease the nightmares away. But she was the one who'd caused so many of those nightmares in the first place. Max squeezed my knee under the table, and I did my best to relax into her touch. "This is war, isn't it?" Her hazel eyes cut to Max. "Or are we going to pretend that burning the primary research station of The Guild was just an unconventional greeting card?"

There wasn't judgment in her tone, if anything, she sounded almost impressed. Intrigued, at the very least.

She studied Max for a long moment.

Max met her stare, unwavering, and I could feel her anger on my behalf directed like a laser towards the woman. She had no reason to hate Evelyn—except that she'd hurt me.

Evelyn's mouth twitched into an amused grin, but it dissolved into her usual mask almost as quickly as it had appeared. "I don't think we've formally met yet, Max Bentley. But I'm Evelyn. I've heard a great deal about you."

Max's lips flattened. "I've heard a lot about you as well."

"Yes, of course." The angles of Evelyn's jaw tightened as she listlessly arranged some papers and files sitting in front of her. "I'm sure you have." She leaned back into her chair, the rickety groan echoing in the tense silence.

I could feel my team's eyes on me, waiting for me to react, to blow up. But I swallowed my anger, using Max's touch to anchor me. My past was nothing compared to what we were up against—it was time for me to swallow it as best as I could.

Evelyn cleared her throat, then her face softened as her focus turned to me. "I hear you're coming from visiting with Seamus. How is he? I haven't been down to see him yet today."

I snorted. "Are you suggesting that you suddenly care?" The words slipped out before I could reign them in. The petulant, childlike tone of my voice had shame licking at my spine. This wasn't who I was, not anymore. I hated that two seconds in a room with her sent me back to adolescence.

"Of course—" pain flashed across her face, her eyes framing in soft wrinkles as she narrowed them. "Eli, of course I care."

I swallowed the retort on the tip of my tongue and nodded. "He's not good, but he's strong." I met her eyes, adding, "and he's survived through worse. He'll get through this too—and be stronger on the other side of it."

There was no mystery as to who had caused the deepest ache in his life.

It certainly wasn't a wonky werewolf.

"Yes, well, we're doing everything we can. Levi tells me that there's been some signs of improvement. He's getting stronger, the?—"

"Enough." I only whispered the word, but it seemed to echo through the room like a bell. My chest was tight, heavy, like it was being crushed by a fucking semi. "I won't discuss my father with you. Is he why you called us here? Or are there other things we can discuss?"

Boundaries. Boundaries were good.

Her eyes dropped down to the table, the apples of her cheeks flushed bright with pink. "Right. Yes. I understand." She cleared her throat. "I apologize for overstepping."

The man with red hair smiled awkwardly, catching on to the tension and clearly trying to dispel it as gracefully as possible. "Perhaps it would be best if we got introductions out of the way. My name is Jace. I've been a part of this community for two years." He turned to Max, his smile widening until it was almost absurdly bright. He was a disarmingly good-looking dude. "And I'm already a big fan of yours, Max. My little sister was locked up in those labs. I didn't think I'd ever see her again. I owe you a great debt."

That caught Max's attention, and pulled her quiet, withering glare away from Evelyn. "Is she okay?"

Jace tilted his head back and forth, his smile flattening a bit. "As okay as can be expected. She was stuck down there for nearly six months—very few succubi are lucky enough to survive protector—" he grunted, "what do they like to call them? Tests? Well, whatever the semantics, very few survive their particular brand of torture that long. But she's strong and somehow managed it. We are eternally grateful to you."

Max straightened up, her eyes brightening. "You're an incubus?"

I noticed Wade lean forward a bit as well, unable to hide his own intrigue. Incubi were rare. Other than Wade, I'd never encountered one. Not knowingly anyway.

But that definitely explained why the man was so pretty, the charisma nearly dripping from him.

He nodded. "Yes. We grew up in the hell realm but spent most of our lives on our own. Easier to survive that way—to blend in."

The woman on his right arched her brow. "And I'm Haley. Vampire."

So, Charlie and Bishop weren't kidding when they said that this place was a large mix of supernaturals from all corners of the world.

We rattled off our names, and while Jace gave each of us a jovial nod, Haley hadn't taken her eyes off of Max. Not even to blink.

"You bear the start of a bond mark." Her eyes narrowed on the small iridescent curve that had grown up the smooth column of Max's neck, where few shirts could cover it completely. "So the rumors are more than rumors then? You are a true bond pack. Like the kind of the old days?"

Max shifted uncomfortably, eyeing me out of the corner of her eye.

I could almost feel the outline of my own mark pulse under my shirt from the heavy intrigue on the woman's face. We all had them now. They were growing more solid, more undeniable with every day that passed.

The collective weight of everyone's gaze was heavy, like they were all trying to find the marks that weren't on display, like they could see beneath our clothes if they stared hard enough.

"Yes," Max said, offering them nothing else. She was hesitant, careful, and I could feel her desire to protect us flare against my skin—bright and hot like the sun. For once, I understood Icarus's temptation. What a way to go.

"Yes," Jace nodded, "I can feel it, emanating from you all. Such a large group, too."

I cleared my throat, uncomfortable discussing our bonds—it was a sacred connection between us, the only thing anchoring us through the chaos of this new world. That we were casually chatting about them in front of my mother, who'd deliberately and knowingly broken her own, albeit fabricated bond, made my skin itch with disgust.

"And your powers." Haley's sentence hung in the air, not a question but more an invitation to elaborate.

"Not important." Darius's voice was clipped. I'd almost forgotten that he was hovering behind us.

Jace nudged Haley's arm as her stare focused on Darius, curiosity evident even in the blankness of her stare.

"And you," she said to him, "are more than you seem as well."

Darius offered her nothing but a scathing glare in response .

"Right," Jace started, the word layered with a tense chuckle, "let's establish some trust here first, we're all on the same team. It's paramount that we learn to trust each other if we're all going to be working together. At the risk of sounding like a narrator from a fairytale, dangerous shit is afoot. There's a lot of uncertainty, uncharted water in our future, and it's best we go in knowing who the true enemy is—The Guild Council." He arched a brow, his focus turning to each of us. "Sound fair?"

"We'll see," Dec responded. She was sitting on my other side, and I'd caught the several death glares she'd shot my mother. Dec liked to pretend that she didn't give a shit about anyone, but she was protective as fuck—and she'd seen firsthand the damage that Evelyn had done to both me and my father when she'd left us.

And Seamus had been like a second father to her too over the years.

I felt unexpectedly warm with the support system surrounding me. I always knew my team had my back, but things had shifted lately, grown stronger—unshakeable.

We'd literally been to hell and back for each other. That kind of shit changed things.

My mother abandoned me, and I'd been unknowingly terrified that the family I'd chosen, my team, might one day do the same.

But I wasn't anymore.

They'd be with me to the end. It was the only thing I was sure of these days and, honestly, it was a pretty fucking magical feeling.

"Obviously things are going to shit," Jace continued with a soft chuckle. "The world, I mean. It's very clear that something big is changing and The Guild has been in denial of it for years. Or deliberately hiding it from their own. The magic is changing, I can feel it. Taste it, almost. There was a reason my sister and I took our shot and escaped the hell realm when we did. But things aren't necessarily better here, and they're about to get worse, aren't they?" He nodded to Max, then Wade. "You're tied to the same magic, so I'm sure you can feel it too. The magic that separates the realms is starving."

Max leaned forward slightly. "What do you mean, starving?"

He tilted his head, like he was searching for the words. When he finally landed on them, they came out clear, sharp, full of warning. "That kind of magic feeds on blood, on violence. It's why hell is such a chaotic, dangerous world. Why this one is mirroring it at a rapid, accelerating pace. The barrier is warped, that violence is echoing and reflecting in this world now too."

"This world has always been a violent one," Wade said.

Jace smiled. He seemed oddly relaxed for someone discussing the end of the world. Then again, that kind of disarming demeanor was the razor-sharp weapon of an incubus.

They were better at controlling their emotions, at reading others than most.

"You're not wrong. But it's gotten worse and will continue to get worse. We don't fully understand why it's happening, but we can no longer deny that we are on the edge of some sort of existential threat. All of us. And while it was caused by The Guild long before any of us were around, it's clear that The Guild has no intention of cleaning up their mess—as per usual—nor do they likely have the power to do it even if they wanted to. Their strength and their numbers have been diminishing for years—a sacrifice and consequence to the power they've long misused."

Max glanced at me, then the others, all of us silently checking in, unsure of how much to tell them. She took a deep breath then nodded. "The barrier between realms is collapsing. It's possible that when it reaches a tipping point, everything— and everyone will be destroyed. Sucked into some kind of magical black hole." She exhaled, eyes darting from face to face in the heaviness. "We don't really know our odds of keeping that from happening but we're doing everything we can to try."

The room was silent, heavy, as they all took in the blunt statement. It was the kind of doom and gloom announcement that seemed almost humorously exaggerated. Only we knew now that it wasn't.

I wasn't sure we could truly, unequivocally trust these people. I'd never forgive my mother for what she did to my father, but that didn't mean she was evil beyond our personal dynamics.

If we were going to live and work with them, it was only fair that they knew what they were up against, I supposed.

Clearly Max did too.

Haley still watched Max, unblinking and ethereally still, but she didn't flinch at the direness of the message. If anything, she only sat up straighter, a fighting fire growing in her dark eyes.

"You seem confident in the validity of this information." Bishop unconsciously swiveled his chair a few inches closer to Charlie. "We've guessed at it, naturally. Jace and some of the others who've traveled between realms in recent years have mentioned the fluctuations. And of course, we've been tracking fractures and tears between the realms when we hear about strange activity—" his focus locked on Max, distrust clear in the tension lining his body, "but how did you come by this information?"

Max met my eyes, then the others. We all nodded.

The decision was clear—surprisingly easy to communicate with just a glance—conceal what we needed to but share as much as we could.

Everyone's life was in danger, we were past the point of keeping things secret from those we could trust. Miscommunication only ever created more problems .

And while our trust could only extend so far, Charlie, Bishop, and the others here had taken us in and created the kind of community The Guild had only pretended to foster.

When we'd brought them a bunch of injured and tortured demons, and voluntarily exiled protectors, they bent over backwards offering their resources and help.

They deserved the truth, the chance to decide whether they truly wanted a part of this war or not. Because honestly, that was the truth—this was a war. We just weren't entirely sure on how many enemies there were, or how to fight the ambivalence of unstable magic. But if we wanted to survive, to save as many people as we could, we'd have to try.

Because while The Guild was the most tangible threat at the moment, the real battle was going to be against the unstable magic—a disaster they'd created through greed, one that we'd be responsible for preventing further fallout from.

I saw Max fidgeting with the hem of her shirt out of the corner of my eye. "We've been to the hell realm; we've seen what's happening."

"What?" Charlie's eyes widened. "How?"

"Several times, actually, because—" Max took a deep breath, "because, the thing is," she cleared her throat, "the thing is, I'm Lucifer's daughter. Most of my power comes from him, some from my mother's line of protectors. Something about my birth might have triggered things, we aren't really sure on the details. Most people who have them are dea—" she paused for a beat, the five of them stunned. She took a deep breath and pressed on. "Um, right. But we also know how to fix it. To keep the barrier from taking out both realms." She scrunched her nose. "Maybe."

Jace opened his mouth and closed it a few times, the first to recover from Max's revelation. After a few seconds, he finally pushed out a word. "Maybe? "

"The devil is real?" Charlie's complexion dipped into an ashy gray, so at odds with the usual warmth. "Seriously?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Evelyn was preternaturally still, her expression not revealing surprise or much of anything really. She was always so good at swallowing her emotions, spitting them back out as an empty canvas when she needed to.

Max smiled sheepishly.

"Yes, but not like you think," Wade clarified. "He's not evil or anything. At least we don't think so. His motivations are slightly unclear, but we think we can trust him. For now. And if his predictions about the hell realm are true, we don't really have a choice."

Charlie took a deep breath. I could see her wrestling with the information, her mind moving a mile a minute. She wasn't really born into this life, hadn't even learned about the supernatural world until a few years ago. I imagined this was especially jarring for her to hear.

She exhaled, long and deep. "Okay. Well, assuming he's not as evil as I'd imagined my entire life, does Lucifer have an actionable plan for how to fix things?"

Fear was etched into every line of her face, but there was also determination. It was damn impressive how well she was handling things. How well they all were.

Better than I had when I'd had to metabolize the same news.

I resisted the sudden urge to glance at Evelyn again, though I was strangely tempted to see her reaction unfold to all of this. Vestigial attachments to an old life, perhaps.

Charlie's hand unconsciously dropped to her stomach, then she shared a brief, intimate look with Bishop.

They hadn't mentioned it to any of us, but I had a feeling they had a very specific motivation for ensuring a more stable and peaceful future .

"First, we need something that The Guild stole many centuries ago." Max's voice was strong, decisive, and, with an almost indecipherable ripple, the atmosphere of the room instantly shifted from shock to action. "A stone—shadow magic made solid. They use it to forge their bonding ceremonies."

"They do what?" For the first time, Jace looked almost cross, the vestiges of rage, the clear threat of his power—circling like smoke in his dark green eyes.

Evelyn nodded, drawing my attention, blinking like she was coming out of a trance. She straightened her posture—any lingering feelings she had from earlier were buried under the commanding mask of someone devoted to a new, top-secret mission. "I think I know what stone you're referring to. They didn't use it for those purposes initially, but they've resorted to that in recent years, after losing their paired blade. I've seen it once, but it's kept under heavy protective detail. I don't know much about it—only that it never leaves a council member's sight. It won't be easy for us to get a hold of, especially if they believe you're after it." She shook her head in disgust. "It's taken a while to confirm, but on one of my last missions with them before," she waved a hand in Max's direction, "you know, the fire, I confirmed some of my deepest fears—that they've warped the magic they were sworn to protect. After looking at Greta's notes on some of the patients she's taking care of, it's becoming clearer. Not only have they found a way to pull magic from demons, they've found ways to mobilize it for their own uses. Beyond what they've been telling us—" she shook her head, "even those of us with unseasonably high clearance."

"They've what?" Darius gripped the back of Max's chair, echoing Jace's anger with far more volume. His fingers tore holes through the leather lining, white filling poking out at odd angles. He didn't seem to notice.

Every muscle in Max's body froze.

Evelyn's mouth flattened into a thin line. "They used to drain the blood from the demons they kept in captivity and feed it into the realm, through the stone. The barrier, the ether, whatever the hell we want to call it—it requires power to maintain itself—from this side of the veil too. For years, the only power we've had access to is blood—protector and demon. Protector blood has become diluted over the centuries, warped—weak. And eventually, through decades of research, trial and error, Guild scientists realized that not all demons had the same magic." She glanced apologetically at Jace. "With lust demons, for instance, they noticed something different. They're rarer than vampires and werewolves, partly because they're harder to identify and capture, and partly because protectors often fall victim to their power without realizing it. But with the influx of attacks and activity over the last decades, their research began to accumulate and take shape. This—shadow magic, did you call it? They were able to identify and isolate it in a succubus about a year or so ago—and, more recently, a new demon they captured. One who feeds on fear and is somehow able to harness demonic energy of other forms and transform it into this shadow magic. My clearance was high, but I still only caught small threads of information from my infiltration. They're unfortunately very good at keeping bits of information separate and isolated, so that even the people working on it hardly know what the larger context or body of knowledge they're contributing to is. It didn't make much sense, collectively, until recently, when we've had better opportunities to fill in the gaps—and now, it seems obvious what they're doing."

"It's why The Guild has always preferred capture over kill—" Bishop directed his attention to Atlas, like he was searching for the cousin he used to know behind the darkness. He wouldn't find him. The Atlas he knew was practically just a kid—he'd been through a lifetime of pain since then, molded into something new. "Why they've doubled down on that more recently. They're trying to find a way to maintain the imbalance they created centuries ago—to fix their now undeniable mistakes. Only they want to do so while in a way that will keep protectors on top of the food chain so to speak. They want to maintain control of the power."

Haley's lips dipped with disgust, the first fracture in her indifferent expression. "As insufferably evil as always, in other words."

Evelyn nodded. "But this last year, they've become even more consumed by fear, and that's translated to only more greed. They've read the writing on the wall and decided to give themselves the best chance of survival they can."

"What are you saying exactly?" Declan asked.

"I can't confirm it, but I have my suspicions that," Evelyn took a deep breath, her shoulders sagging slightly, "they've actually found a way to inject themselves with this shadow magic, effectively imbibing them with the strength and power of demons. Attaching themselves to the magic of the barrier. Guild researchers have always been invested in understanding the supernatural world. That very thirst for power is the reason the hell realm exists at all. Demons have power and The Guild wants it. Recent events and fears have pushed that research to new extremes—turning that very power into a weapon they can use to protect themselves if the world turns hostile towards them."

"And how exactly is it that you know this?" I asked. "My father hasn't mentioned it before."

"He's lost council trust in recent years, more so in recent months. He wouldn't have access to that information. And with his connection to Cyrus, the council has always been hesitant about letting him in deeper." Her eyes met mine, sad and hazy with emotion and history I didn't want to untangle. "Even with my level clearance—I'm still unable to confirm. But I've heard rumors, seen glimpses of it firsthand. "

"So have I," Max said. Her focus was on Evelyn. "When we were leaving the lab, we ran into a member of the council—at least I'm pretty sure he was a member of the council." Her eyes closed, like she was trying to visualize the memory, make it solid. "His veins were dark black, the same kind of sludge-like liquid we noticed them siphoning from some of the demons. Not exactly pure shadow magic, but an essence of it definitely lingered in there. When I focused on it, I could sense it was more than blood they were draining."

She'd mentioned this run-in a few days ago, but now with this new insight, the direness of it all sank in.

"He teleported away—something very few demons are able to do, especially outside of the magic encasing and pulsing through hell. There's a reason lust demons need access to hell's power to engage with their own."

"Like you can, you mean." Haley's voice was emotionless, but I tensed at the unfulfilled accusation.

Max only nodded though, taking her point. "Yes, like I can. I wasn't sure what I was seeing at the time, but this makes sense now. They're scared—they know shit's going to hit the fan so they're taking the magic and trying to save themselves."

My teeth hurt from clenching them so tightly.

"And—" Max paused for a beat before she inhaled sharply, "oh my god. Seamus." She squeezed my thigh under the table, her eyes wide as she turned to me. Panic pooled low in my gut, like my body knew what she was going to say before my brain did. "Today, there was a moment, when the light of my hellfire hit just right, that I could have sworn I saw his veins turn black. What if that's the reason his shift is so difficult?"

Evelyn's face clouded in horror. "You think he wasn't just bitten by a werewolf, but one infused with this distorted shadow magic somehow?"

"Is that possible?" Wade asked her. "Have you seen anything like that when working with them? "

Evelyn shook her head. "I know they've been doing a lot of experiments. They've been more or less throwing spaghetti at the wall, hoping something sticks before it's too late—before they lose everything they've spent generations—centuries—cultivating. People don't let go of power easily. That kind of fear inspires bold, unprecedented action. Now that I know more about what our world is facing, it's not impossible to imagine they'd do something like this. I just don't know what it could mean for us—or for Seamus."

"And now the greedy fucks are throwing their people under the bus to save themselves—the rest of the world they're supposedly sworn to protect be damned." Darius's voice was dangerous, the look in his eyes wild with anger.

If I didn't know him as well as I did, my hackles would be up—as it was, I only shifted slightly, uncomfortable with him standing behind me.

Never have your back to a predator. Blood-bonded to me or not, Darius was no prey.

Bishop's hand moved below the table, and I knew with a deep certainty that he'd wrapped it around the blade at his thigh—eyes locked onto Darius.

Charlie rubbed his shoulder, and he loosened up at her touch, just slightly.

"If this is true," Haley leaned back in her chair, brow arched, "getting this stone will be more difficult than anticipated. They'll be hard to kill."

Max smirked. "So am I."