“Why is it you can’t handle the simplest tasks?” Hunter asked, looking at his brother with disdain. “When I told you to teach her control, what made you think I wanted her to be paraded down here again?”
“I needed to see Andreas,” Gray replied smoothly.
“You couldn’t go alone?”
“And let her roam around the house without supervision? I’d rather not take that chance.”
“And you felt the need to dress up for the occasion?” Hunter asked, gaze sliding over to me.
“There’s a strict dress code, or so I’m told,” I replied, fighting the urge to tug on the hem of the dress.
“Quentin, when I put rules in place, I expect them to be followed,” Hunter said. “And you keep defying them.”
“I came here with Gray and I haven’t caused any harm.”
“Your very existence means harm.” A wicked smile stretched his lips. “I thought you would know better than to lie to a God. Mabel was quick to let me know you were roaming down here alone.”
Gray huffed. “I wouldn’t trust a word that comes out of Mabel’s mouth. She only knows how to cause trouble.”
“But she’s proven to be more trustworthy than you, Grayson. I gave you a leash for this bitch and you’re letting her roam free.”
I bristled at the words, forcing my aura to pulse in the space.
“Since you seem so comfortable in your skin,” Hunter continued, fingers cutting through my aura, “we’ll set the time for your test. Tomorrow. Eleven o’clock sharp, at the council chambers.”
“Chambers?” Gray asked. “I thought you’d want us to stop by the house.”
“This isn’t a private matter. The entire council deserves to see proof she won’t be an issue when she’s returned home. I will inform them about this little unsanctioned trip.” Hunter looked directly at me. “Do not be late, Quentin. I hope that’s an order you can both follow.”
Ifought against every instinct to follow her when she left our home. Our bond conveyed she was in no more pain than what I’d inflicted with my lies and I knew her well enough to understand that she wouldn’t want to be backed into a corner. She needed time to process before allowing me into her circle again. This woman would be driven mad if she didn’t have answers, and I was the only being who could give her the ones she wanted. Fill in the blanks that allowed her the entire picture.
I could allow her that space, knowing she was safe, but the moment Bexley turned up to inform me she was planning a trip to The Vermillion Lady, I was ready to retrieve her and force the conversation to happen.
Impulsive and reckless was my domain. It was my comfort zone. She was the logical one who could work through her mist, not give in to it. And the moment she did, we found ourselves in a predicament.
Quentin returned home with me after Hunter gave his order, but she requested Ignacio. Despite the late hour, he arrived without complaint and worked her through drills. My eyes never left her as she faltered through the first few hours, hair pulled back tight as she focused.
I imagined her younger, preparing for the exams that would lead her to her PhD and the life she had before I crashed into it. Alone and focused. Quen didn’t need anyone to flourish. Given adequate time, she could master her feelings and her aura in the way she had everything else.
The brilliance she showed as a mortal would only be amplified with divinity. It was the idea I floated in front of Hunter, wording it as using her to our advantage, but my brother was never great at picking up on subtle hints. Perhaps another shove into my line of thinking might help move things along quicker.
The guilt washed over me as she struggled through yet another drill. There was no doubt in my mind that this was down to me and what she’d seen through Archer’s memories.
“Again,” Quentin said, coiling her aura back in towards her and picking herself up from the floor.
Ignacio shot me a concerned look, and I rose from my seat to join them.
“You need to rest,” I said, coming to a stop next to her.
The sun streamed weakly through the fog that surrounded our property and bathed the room in a soft light. It highlighted the dark shadows under her eyes and the tightness in her jaw.
“I need to survive,” Quen snapped without looking at me.
“You need to see your brother,” Ignacio chipped in. “Which will happen if you can unwind yourself. Grab a shower. Eat a meal.”
She buried her head in her hands and took a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling with the motion. “Okay. Will you be here when I get back?”
Quen was grasping for a buffer between us.
