“In my vision, he fully infected you with dark magic, and your emotions disappeared completely. Sweetheart, it took away who you are. You would’ve gone along with it.”
“My little bird would never fucking go along with it, even if she was infected.” Damien snarled, moving away from me.
My migraine came back tenfold, and I clutched my head tightly. “I'm just telling you what I saw,” I gritted out.
“Damien, please help him,” Wren murmured, her pain flickering through the bond.
The pain stabbed at my brain, radiating through it. “I'm not trying to hurt anyone. I just want you to know what I saw.”
“We know that,” Lachlan said.
“Do you know when this vision takes place?” Alister asked, getting up and running a hand through his hair.
“And do you know how to prevent it?” Rhett asked, dropping a kiss to Wren’s shoulder.
“It's going to happen once we go in there.” I pointed toward the door to the office and winced.
“Fuck,” Damien muttered before the pain dissipated again. “Now, tell us how to stop him from getting her.”
“My vision didn’t give me multiple outcomes this time,” I muttered bitterly. “And I hate that. I’m sorry. I wish I could be of more help, but my visions aren’t always a cure-all.”
“You just saved our mate from walking into that office and getting taken with no warning, so I think you’ve done a lot,” Lachlan said, flattening his lips into a thin line.
“Why don't we let him think he has the upper hand,” Wren suggested, and our gazes snapped to her. “I mean, I can ask him to replace the bond so we can stop fighting. Replacing the bond is how we can kill him, right?”
My heart squeezed in my chest as I stared at her unwavering form as she continued running her hands over Nightshade. Her strength and her resolve made mesoproud. “That is how we could kill him, yes.”
“Then that's what we're gonna fucking do,” Damien snapped.
“If that's what we have to do, that's fine.” Alister nodded.
Rhett sighed. “We'll be right here in the same room with you.”
“Are you sure, Kit?” Thorn’s gaze held worry as he pushed out of the bed.
She nodded. “Grayson has to go.”
“Can you see if it's going to work?” Rowan asked.
I closed my eyes, magic thrumming through me as I forced a vision.
Five different outcomes flashed through my mind. Two of them were undesirable.
“Three outcomes work with Grayson’s death, but two don’t. In one of them, Wren gets fully infected, and she becomes just like him.” My voice cracked as pain ricocheted through my chest. “The other, she gets semi-infected by dark magic, but he leaves her with us. It's not a lot of dark magic, but it's enough to alter her personality—there’s a way to purge it from her if we can kill him, though.”
“Three out of five sounds good to me,” Wren mumbled, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath.
“That’s not acceptable,” Thorn stated, staring at her with a pained expression as his ice magic swirled around him.
“Then we need a new plan,” Lachlan shouted, throwing his hands in the air before raking them through his hair.
“We don't have time for that,” Rowan growled, black smoke pluming from his nostrils.
“I smell sulfur,” Damien hissed.
“Sweet ruby, we're going to be right there with you.” Alister’s fangs cut his lip as he bit into it.
“It'll be fine, baby. I know even if you ended up infected, you’ll come back to us,” Rhett told her.
