His white eyes glowed. "Yes. My offer still stands, you know. As you can see, I preemptively held up my end of the bargain. Here's the sword and the thief. All I want in return is that magic."
So that was Animus’s angle. I should’ve known he was trying to manipulate me. But what if I still refused? He would’ve gone through all that effort for nothing.
Unless the act of returning the sword was worthwhile to him even without a reward.
But that couldn’t be. If he didn’t have anything to gain, why bother? It wasn’t like he was actually trying to help us—to help Meeko.
Was he?
I met his gaze, emotions swirling inside me. He returned my stare with those pale, unblinking eyes. I almost shuddered. It was up close like this that Animus truly did look like a spirit—not human, not animal. A creature beyond mortal comprehension.
“Don’t agree,” Mistral blurted out. “You shifters can’t keep giving him your magic, he’s getting too—”
Animus threw Mistral to the ground and put a clawed foot on his head, pinning him in place. “I told you to be quiet. You’re ruining a perfectly good conversation I’m having with Cloud.”
Why did Mistral sound so panicked? What was he talking about?
“Getting too what?” I asked cautiously.
“Too strong! He’s gonna—”
With a snarl, Animus’s foot moved to Mistral’s neck. His black claws pushed down on him like a heavy bear’s paw. I watched in discomfort. Spirits couldn’t be killed, so Mistral wasn’t in any true danger, not like a mortal would be. But it still wasn’t fun to watch.
“That’s enough,” I said to Animus. “I’ll talk, but not if you’re hurting Mistral.”
Animus’s grin flipped into a scowl. “You’re no fun. In fact, I think you’re my least favorite alpha.”
“Um. Okay?”
Animus glared down at Mistral, who was quivering. “Drop the sword.”
Not wanting to see any more violence, I said, “Mistral, just do what he says. It’s no use to you anyway.”
The air spirit writhed beneath Animus’s claws and spat, “Fine!”
He tossed it into the dirt petulantly. As soon as the weapon left his grip, Animus kicked him aside and swiped the sword. I had no chance of grabbing it first—Animus’s speed was otherworldly. Even if I did manage to pick it up faster, it was as useless in my hands as it was in Mistral’s.
But that wasn’t the case with Animus.
As soon as his claws curled around the hilt, the sword transformed. The blade lengthened, shooting up to half Animus’s height. An inky energy emanated from the base like smoke. Its powerful aura took my breath away.
It was no longer the size of a toothpick—it was a real, dangerous weapon. Did it look like that in Meeko’s hands, too?
Suddenly Mistral’s half-finished sentence hit me like an electric shock. What had he been trying to say? That we fated mates couldn’t keep offering Animus our magic because he was getting too strong?
With the sword in his hand, Animus was on another level. A shiver ran down my spine. With the magic he’d collected and the omega spirit sword in his possession, who knew what he was capable of?
I wondered if I’d just made a big mistake.
Animus regarded me for a long moment, his eyes cold and scrutinizing. It felt like he was trying to pry my brain open and read my thoughts.
“Begone, Mistral,” he snapped to the other spirit.
Mistral was lying in a pathetic pile of skin and feathers on the ground. He hadn’t even bothered to get back up after Animus kicked him aside. Honestly, I kind of understood why Farley and Animus both found him irritating.
When Mistral hesitated, Animus swung the sword in his direction. The blade wasn’t close to touching him but Animus squawked and scrambled into the air, summoning his magic to propel him away.
“I cannotstandhim,” Animus muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighed and looked at me. “Well, Cloud? My offer’s on the table. I suggest you stop waffling and answer me already.”
