His jaw flexes. "It's not that strange. I didn't report you being in the headmaster's office, either. Believe it or not, I'm not trying to insult the gods by ripping apart my own quintet just because one of us was spirited away to the Nether as a helpless toddler."
I pause. "How did you know I was a toddler when I was taken?"
Everett rubs his neck, looking away. "It's nothing. I…I don't know if it was you. I guess I just assumed?—"
"Company!" Baelfire shouts. "On our left!"
Thank the universe for shifter hearing.
We take defensive positions just before the ground rumbles, and a wave of rocks and earth sweeps toward us. Silas hits it with a deflection spell that sends dirt raining all around. Through that dust explosion, a vampire dives forward, leaping toward Everett.
Another blade of ice is in Everett's hands before I can blink, and he impales the vampire just as two casters and Brooks charge toward us. One caster launches an attack spell at me. I deflect, drawing on my reserve to use common magic because using either of the other two magics I can use might lead to another Chase situation.
Brooks shifts into a tiger and pounces toward Silas. I'm distracted with fending off three more magical attacks in quick succession since it's difficult to remember to limit myself to weak, common magic. Baelfire tackles the earth elemental before they can send another wave of rocks toward me.
But while Everett and Silas are both distracted, flanking my sides in an attempt to keep the vampire or tiger from getting close, I catch the movement of a powerful spell in my peripheral vision and realize that the second caster isn't currently engaged in combat—and he's targeting Baelfire.
Swiveling, I dig deep into what's left of my reserve, throwing a defense charm at the second caster. But my aim is off becauseCaster One's spell slams into me, making me faceplant hard into the forest floor.
My charm only barely grazes Caster Two. He stumbles, but most of his spell still slams into Baelfire?—
And my dragon shifter's scream of pain rings through the forest.
My stomach plummets when Bael collapses to the ground, blood gushing from multiple injuries.
No.
"Baelfire!" I shout, scrambling back to my feet and ignoring the new, stinging scrape on my cheek as I race toward him. When I reach him, he's groaning, writhing on the forest floor as if every position causes immense pain.
And I can see why. That was a fucking silverblend spell.
His clothes are shredded, and dozens, if not hundreds, of tiny, thistle-like barbs of magically-formed silver are protruding from his arms, legs, stomach, shoulders, neck—everywhere. They're shaped so that they'll hurt worse coming out than going in, andgods, he is bleeding so much.
His shifter healing won't work with the silver embedded in him like this.
The other quintet planned ahead. Even without weapons, they cheated and brought in silver to kill off any shifter they came up against.
I hear an explosion of some kind nearby, but I can't seem to look away from my gorgeous match's face, contorted in agony as he bleeds too freely from too many places. I try to wipe the blood so it doesn't drip into his squeezed-shut eyes, but I realize my hands are shaking.
All of me is shaking.
How dare they hurt what's mine?
I'm…mad.
No. I am fuckinglivid.
All my life, no matter what brand of hell I was trying to survive, I have known one thing to be true: to protect what's mine, I have to be brutal. There is no such thing as taking it too far if the people I care about are at stake.
It's why I took beatings for Lillian without her knowing.
It's why I made a blood oath.
And now, it's why I decide that I don't fucking care about all the reasons why these legacies would be better off without me. All that matters is that they've become undeniably important to me—and now that I've decided they're mine, I'm not holding back anymore.
I'll be heartless for them.
"Maven!" Silas shouts, rushing to my side.
