I frowned, glaring at him. “Unless you have a better idea, then that is all we have.”
“Not really,” Greer’s charm mage mate said, scratching his beard. “Adrian and I could unravel the wards. If this is the work of a charm mage, then two could easily undo it.”
For a moment, the son—Adrian—appeared hesitant. From him, I caught only a flash of his thoughts, a quick glimpse into the fear festering within him, his agonising worry that he could fail—again.
But he looked at his—our—mate, and something within him softened. “Okay,” he breathed, nodding once. “Yeah. We can undo it.”
Regardless of whether they could, I still sought the magic myself. As Adrian joined his father, separating from the group to concoct a way to nullify the charms circling the island—if it was charms, anyway—I felt for the power myself.
“You’ve got a lot to prove to us, Nash,” the divination mage hissed. “We know about your missing memories. So, I’ll refresh you on something you probably don’t remember: you wanted to reject her. Said to me, with her there, that you didn’t want the bond, and she took that to mean you wanted to reject her. Now, I’m ready to give you the benefit of the doubt, especially knowing this isn’t your first time having your memories fucked with and you subconsciously had walls put up when it came to her—walls you weren’t even aware had anything to do with the sacrifice my mother intended for you.”
I couldn’t remember any of that, but…no. I did. My heart pounded as I met his furious stare, noticed the rage playing out in his eyes, in the tick appearing in his jaw as he clenched his teeth.
For a moment, I was lost to the distant, shadowy memory of an office. Of soft light highlighting her still, sleeping features. The flutter of her dark lashes as she laybetween her two bonded mates. The smell of the ocean, tinged with the coming storm and death, only just obscuring her familiar scent. I remembered the words forming on my lips, the way they tasted wrong even then, and yet…
“If they can’t do what they say they’ll do,” the mage continued, tearing me from the memory. I snapped back to reality, to the island and the ticking clock hanging over us. “Then you do it. Understand?”
Swallowing, I nodded. Part of me was glad I couldn’t remember his claims. That I couldn’t remember wanting torejectmy own mate. Bile rose in my throat as his words echoed in my ears, replaying repeatedly until they were all I could hear.
The Primal of the Old World stared at me in disgust from where he stood with the bear shifter. Both looked at me like they couldn’t believe they’d risked their lives to rescuemeafter what I’d done to her.
My own disgust in myself wavered, shifting into a bone deep guilt.
She could have gotten out faster, sooner, if she hadn’t come for me. Maybe she could already be away, stowed safely somewhere Dante wouldn’t find her.
Despite everything I’d done to her, despite me not being the mate she deserved, she still came for me.
For the rest of my life, I would be on my knees begging for her forgiveness. I would spend the rest of my life crawling to her, praying to anyone who might listen for just a piece of her mercy. I would take whatever she offered me, even if it was scraps, so long as I could prove to her that I was not that male anymore. With or without my memories, I knew deep in my bones, I was hers. I’d always been hers.
The divination mage stepped away from me and moved to where the wolf continued to hold her. She still hadn’t woken, but I didn’t reach for any part of her mind. Maybe she didn’t want any part of me. She certainly wouldn’t want me invading her sleep.
I watched as the mage sat beside the wolf, who silentlyplaced her in the mage’s arms. They spoke quietly between themselves, sharing words I didn’t try to listen to.
All I did was step back, trying to ignore the bile rising in my throat and the churning sickness in my stomach.
Moving to one of the remaining walls of the palace, I pressed my hand against the stone and closed my eyes. The faintest whisper of magic still burrowed deep into the bones of the palace beckoned me to them. Power that called to the part of me that was Fae. My connection to the ancient Fae world, the old ways of this realm, rose within me.
But I pushed past it. Beneath the earth were the bones of those who once served this island. The guards who protected the last High Queen. Her children. The Queens who came before her.
Old tombs of long dead monarchs and their courts left forgotten beneath the water.
It wasn’t them I wanted. It wasn’t their magic I sought.
At first, I barely noticed the wards. They’d been hidden so well, right where the water was at its deepest where none would think to search. Most would look to the old ruins for the source, but not the water surrounding it. But there, deep beneath the rushing tides, carved into smooth stones trapped in the currents, were charms.
They were strong, but the magic could easily be stolen from them, too.
It would be harder, but I could take it away. I could give them time to escape.
I should need to place my hand on it for this to work. But it was connected to the island, and I prayed to the Goddess that it would be enough.
As I reached for it, I released the power of the pain demon. I didn’t need his magic anymore. It didn’t serve me, didn’t give me any advantage now that we were out of Dante’s grasp. It might flow directly back to him or disappear entirely—I wasn’t sure, and I never cared to ask.
The magic of the demon leaked out of me, soaking into the earth at my feet. I felt tears of blood mixed with his power dripfrom my eyes, but I kept them closed as I drew in a breath and forcefully took hold of the wards.
Complex magic, they were. But it would take the charm mages too long to unravel the power themselves. This was years of work in the making, work I was tearing apart and consuming for myself.
It didn’t take long for it to flood my veins. Charms and wards, old and new, coursed through me. Each one I took tasted like ash and burned like fire.
