Phineas
IHEARD THE door to Lennox’s room close, and grabbed a chair from the kitchen,using my telekinesis to jam it underneath the doorknob. Even though shepromised me she’d stay put, I feared she wouldn’t be able to help herself, andI couldn’t risk her seeing me like this.
I scanned thecabin for an object of my rage and settled on the oak coffee table, dragging itbehind me as I exited the cabin, slamming the front door as I did. Onceoutside, I threw the table as hard as I could toward the grove of Scots Pinesto the west of the cabin, roaring at the top of my lungs as it crashed into thetowering trees. I ran after the table, repeating the process over and overuntil the heavy oak table was reduced to sticks and splinters. Then I had a goat the trees themselves. Imagining Gavin Trask’s face with every punch.Slamming my fists into the mighty Pine until the flesh was torn from my handsand every one of my knuckles was broken.
“That’s enough,son,” my father said, placing his hand on my shoulder. I turned to find mymother and siblings with him.
Of course they’dcome. Cauld Ane parents and siblings had the unique ability to feel eachother’s emotions, if they were strong enough, and what I was currently feelingcertainly constituted strong.
In fact, theywere downright extreme.
“I want to killhim,” I said, blood pouring from my hands.
“I know.”
“He beat her,Da. Trask whipped his daughter just to prove that he had ultimate power overher.”
“We’ll deal withTrask. I promise you that,” he said in a tone I’d never heard from my father.It was the tone of a king. A king ready for war.
“Lennox is mymate,” I said.
“We know,” hesaid. “We can all feel it.”
“What I mean is,Lennox is my mate, andIwill be the one to deal with Trask when thetime comes.”
“If and when thetime comes, I’ll expect you to listen to your father and king in such matters.”
“Da, she’s—”
“Your mate. Iunderstand, son. Believe me, I do,” he placed his hands on my shoulders, and Ifelt the peace in my father’s touch. “Now, let me take a look at your hands.”
“Mum’s better athealing than you are,” I protested.
“Baws,” he said.“Besides, I think your mother and sister should probably go check on your lass,don’t you?”
I nodded to mymother, before presenting the bloody stumps at the ends of my arms to myfather.
“Ya rightpooched ’em, ya roaster,” he said playfully in a thick brogue, but his eyesbetrayed him. He couldn’t hide a father’s concern for his son.
“Shite,brother,” Liam hissed. “Didn’t think you had it in ya.”
My father tookmy hands in his as he began to speak the ancient words of healing, seeminglyunconcerned about the blood spilling onto his clothes and shoes.
* * *
Lennox
Rage. That’s all I could feelswamping me. Pure, unadulterated rage. But it wasn’t directed at me. In fact,somehow, I knew it was a righteous anger that would protect me at all costs.
I wrapped theblanket tighter around me and curled up on the bed, closing my eyes and praying.I knew that whatever Phin was going through was bigger than anything I couldhelp him with.
I don’t know howlong I laid there, quietly meditating, worried that Phin wouldn’t come back forme. But the moon’s glow had receded from the wavy glass of the window, nowreplaced by the early morning rays of the sun as it started its rise.
I heard a knockat my door and sat up with a gasp. “Phin?”
“No, sweetie,it’s his mother, Samantha. May I come in?”
“Ah, sure.” Ismoothed my hair in an attempt to look presentable, but without a mirror, I hadno clue exactly how bad I looked.
