“Last year.” She stops throwing fireballs, her chest heaving with heavy breaths, sweat glistening on her skin from the exertion of using so much magic in such a short time. I keep my shield up just in case though.
“Last year?” I repeat. “What? How?”
Rhiannon scoffs. “Magic, brother.”
“You…” My stomach rolls with horror. “You used black magic to contact the dead?” Somehow, I managed to block out the part where my own little sister was dabbling in necromancy. But it’seven more disturbing to me to know that she’s actually been in contact with our family.
“I needed to. I had to know how to access the Delaport ancestral magic. I deserved the birthrightyoutook from me when you killed them.”
“I saved you,” I growl. “I don’t know how they’ve twisted this story, but clearly, they’ve gotten inside your head and turned you against me. They were horrible, Rhi. They made me do things…” My breath catches. “They made me hurt people, they forced me to perform curses and ugly, horrible magic that filled me with a sense of rot. I killed them because it was the only way to stop them from hurting anyone else and to stop anyone else from hurting me.”
“Liar,” she shouts, and lunges at me again.
This time I drop my shield and I don’t try to dodge out of the way. I let her come, and as soon as her hands wrap around my throat, I project my memories directly into her mind. I let her feel the echoes of the beatings I took when I refused to comply. I let her see through my eyes as our family sold my magic to the highest bidder time and again, no matter what they wanted with it. I let her feel the rage and despair that filled me when I realized that there was only one way to escape.
My sister yowls and falls back.
“No,” she murmurs. “That can’t be true.”
I drop to my knees and reach out for her hand, pulling it back and placing her palm against my face. I show her the years I’ve spent too afraid to let anyone else close to me and the nights I’ve woken up in a cold sweat from nightmares— frommemories— of what I suffered. Rhiannon lets out a sob and tugs her hand away.
“You left me,” she says in a small voice, sounding more like a little girl now than the powerful grown woman in front of me.
“I’m sorry.” I look her in the eye so she can see the sincerity in my words. “I’m sorry. I genuinely thought you would be betteroff. I was only a teenager, and all I could think about was getting away, getting somewhere safe where no one could use me or hurt me again.”
A tear rolls down her cheek, and I can feel the shift in energy around us. All the rage softens into sorrow, and I pull her into my arms to hug her.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper again, and I finally let my own tears flow too. Fuck, I wish there weren’t a dozen supernaturals standing around watching me weep with my sister, but I guess it’s still better than having to kill her.
“I’m sorry too,” she says. “This was…” She pulls back and looks around, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “A bit extra.”
“You think?” I laugh. “Next time you want to work through our family shit, just DM me on socials, okay?”
She gives a watery laugh and nods.
“Deal.”
“Oh, and, sis, lay off the necromancy. It’s gross.”
She scrunches her nose. “Noted.”
ATLAS
The tension easesout of my chest once it’s obvious that the battle is over. Rune stands up, wiping the tears off of his face with the back of his hand, then he offers a hand to help his sister up too. They both dust themselves off and make their way over to where we’re all standing and watching.
“That was a little anticlimactic,” Mac says.
“Yeah, what a shame it didn’t end in bloodshed,” I reply sarcastically.
“I mean, I’m glad no one died, but alittlebloodshed would have been exciting.” He shrugs and his mate chuckles, giving him a kiss on the head.
“I can bite you if you want.” Cas flashes his fangs with a smirk.
Mac shudders. “Nah, I’m good.”
“Like Drax would let you get your fangs anywhere near his mate,” Roman points out with a chuckle.
Drax grunts in agreement.
