Chapter 11
Alexander
Thirty-sixhourswasallI could allow myself to sleep. Once again, I dreamed of Quinn tangled with Cayden and Rowan. A shadow lingered behind her, and three unwanted tethers pulled at her spine.
I woke alone in my bed with cold fear crawling down my back. Ezra hadn’t added any new squares to the ceiling. They were only decorative, but they were his gesture and helped me focus on the here and now. No new squares… I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed down my dread.
Although I felt far from rested, I’d recovered from most of the effects of eating my magic. Strands of white still threaded mybaby-blue hair, but even those would regain their color, as long as I took care of myself. A few days of extra rations and long nights of rest would have to suffice.
In record time, I found myself clean, dressed in my trainee uniform, and walking toward Quinn, only to force myself to turn to my war room instead.
I used my magic to defend my family.I killed in the Alun.
My heart thumped. My choices. My consequences.
A headache beat at my temple. I should go to Quinn. I should have broken my own rules and just peeked to make sure she was okay. Not because I didn’t trust Rowan, but because it would’ve made me happy. But I refused to let the world judge her because of my mental magic. Her choices were hers alone.
I stopped and drew in a deep breath of cold air. No dwelling on unwritten paths. If there was any chance of keeping the families at bay, I had to take it.
For all my power, I was still mortal. My mental magic left me vulnerable—a glass cannon—deadly but fragile.
I focused on Quinn’s beating heart. She was working in The Old Fortress, helping break down and catalog everything the late Professor Holiday collected. It was the perfect job for her. Feeling her safe within my walls calmed my unease.
My family was alive with activity. Every person, even my trainees, was helping rebuild not just my castle but also my Mile. I tapped into my TB system and went through everything I’d missed, which was a lot, with nothing completed. By the time I stepped into my war room, I was up to speed, if in no better of a mood.
Ezra and his five stood around the model of my castle. Rowan shifted from foot to foot, unease rolling off him. If he was here, then Quinn was alone with Cayden.
Alarm bells went off in my head. Emil’s visions and twisted fantasies surfaced unbidden, sending my pulse skidding out of rhythm.
‘Quinn.’ I sent the single word like a spike into my lover’s mind.
‘I have extra enforcers on her.’Ezra’s words eased me.
She wasn’t alone with the Lawson.
Morgen cleared her throat unhappily. I hadn’t noticed my bright pink-haired monster standing just to the left of the entrance. She crossed her arms defensively across her chest. Her proximity to the door spoke volumes. Professor Holiday’s demise did not sit well with her.
“There are amends I need to offer.” I stepped to the table, deliberately ignoring her.
“That’s well and good, but Architect”—Valentino, my relations officer, stepped forward and spread his arms—“we didn’t lose a single man in Erick’s assault because of you. You saved us.”
My chest warmed. I hadn’t known what reception to expect.
I held up my hand. “I promise I only use my mentalist abilities when there are no other options.”
“That’s good,” Abernathy said, at the same time as Jefferson muttered, “You should be using them more.”
Abernathy and Jefferson traded looks—old guard and new blood, divided by time and morals. The desperate couldn’t afford to lose their advantages, morals or not, while the powerful could. Not everyone truly understood that side of life, except those who understood it too well.
“Regardless,” I said smoothly before this could turn into a discussion. “Our family has recovered well and quickly.”
“As long as the other families don’t rally against a mentalist,” Valentino said before I could continue.
I drummed my fingers on the stone table. “That eventuality is why I took this castle, with its walls built into the cliff sides andevery building in range of my mental powers. If it comes to it, I can and will defend my home again.” I raised my finger to keep our conversation on track. “There’s one family beyond recovery. The Lawsons.”
The reaction to my words ranged from curiosity to disgust.
I gave them a moment to adjust to the idea before giving my orders. “Within the hour, we move. Our goal is not to take but to offer. The remaining Lawsons are stranded and have no leadership. They need help.”
