One side of my face was pressed against the plush carpet of Erik’s living room, the fibres grating against my skin, while the sole of Ignacio’s shoe crushed my exposed cheek. Vibrant auras expanded in the space, illuminating it as they ensnared my body, keeping me pinned to the ground as I struggled.
“You’ll make it worse, brother. You need to calm down,” Erik pleaded.
He sat on his knees beside me, his bright blue eyes wide, saying a thousand things that he refused to vocalise. I would have dared him, any of them, to say what they were truly thinking. To face the truths that I accepted the moment they ripped Quentin from me.
“I don’t trust him,” I gritted out through my teeth. Any more pressure and they’d be at risk of shattering. “I should have stopped him!”
Ig’s shoe pressed harder against my cheek until the pain blossomed across my cheekbone and up to my temple, adding to the thrum that already pulsated there. His body loomed over mine, casting a long shadow as I writhed against the floor. My aura was useless against the four others in the room that bound me in position. The slightest leverage was easily overturned, causing my blood to boil until I was certain it would burst from my veins, spilling pure, unadulterated chaos through the house and beyond. There would be no survivors and no mercy.
“But you didn’t,” Ig informed me bluntly, leaning in closer. “Because you knew what it would do. For once, we’re not doing as you say. For once, we need to use some logic because otherwise she’s going to wind up dead.”
Logic was a fine thing if you possessed it.
Rationale was wondrous if you had the control to apply it.
But how could they expect those from me when my soulbound had been forced away with my psychotic brother who made it clear he wanted her dead?
A heavy knock on the door forced heads to look up, but Ig refused to relent. We’d known each other for too long and fought each other too often for him to give me an advantage by turning his attention away from me. The usual admiration I would have at facing a worthy adversary withered into irritation under the circumstances.
“I don’t trust him not to go against the vote,” I spat, wanting them to understand my concerns.
“He won’t—" Sloan started.
“You can’t guarantee that!” I shouted, cutting her off. My disrespect caused Erik to tense beside me.
“No, but I can,” a silky female voice cut through the argument.
This time, Ig’s foot faltered, and I twisted my head, tipping it back to see Bexley standing in the doorway. Beckett, Erik’s eldest son, stood next to her, gaze bouncing along each face in the room.
“Beckett,” Sloan said softly, maternal instinct dripping from her son’s name. “Go look after your brothers and sister. We’ll explain later.”
He looked from his mother to me, and I swallowed hard. My godchildren had never been on the receiving end of my wrath, and I refused to start now.
“Do as your mother says,” I told him, pushing down on the tornado of emotions that raged in my chest.
Beckett nodded before disappearing soundlessly.
“An entire planet, and you find the only demigoddess that survives,” Bexley stated, folding her arms across her chest and leaning casually against the doorframe.
She had the same bone structure and blonde locks as her older sister, but unlike Larkin, Bexley possessed a friendlier disposition. I was yet to discover whether she was born with it or if it was acquired after years of watching her ice queen sibling and the tactics she deployed. Correcting herself to appear more palatable after witnessing the reception Larkin received. No one could blame her for wanting to craft herself in anything other than her sister’s image.
“I didn’t exactly go looking for her, Bexley,” I said, words sharp and failing to match her teasing tone.
She remained unaffected by my attitude as she continued, “No. Chaos just seems to find you, doesn’t it?”
“Why are you here?” I asked, narrowing my eyes and trying to ignore the block of lead that settled in my stomach.
Bexley never sought us out unless it was a family function. She kept to herself, preferring to descend into lower Elysia and spend her days with minor Gods. If Bexley turned up here, she must have been sent, and that meant news. It was pathetic how even a crumb of knowledge about Quentin felt capable of dousing some of the rage that roared through my body.
“Curiosity.” She pushed herself away from the door and stepped towards us. “I tried your place first, but there was no answer. Now I see why.” Her arms swept out, signalling the display on the floor. “But I don’t understand it.”
“There’s nothing to understand,” Ig replied with an indignant sniff.
That fucker may have had his foot against my face for the last thirty minutes, but his loyalty ran deep.
“Grayson’s pinned to the floor, and none of you have eased this bizarre hostage situation to display good old-fashioned Elysian hospitality,” Bexley commented, tucking a strand of her bob behind her ear. “Why are you so desperate to see her, Grayson? Why didn’t you report her?”
My fingers flexed at my sides. I’d never really been able to decipher where things stood between me and Bexley. Sometimes she fell into step easily with me and Erik, just as irritated by Hunter and his antics. But it was clear to see that her true alliance stood with her sister and that made her something dangerous in my eyes.
