Connor’s breathing heightened into a frenzied state, skin paling rapidly. He continued to clutch at his head, eyes squeezed shut against the light.
Daya’s quiet rage whipped through the air, silent lightning lashing out brightly in the dark of night as she stormed into the room. Rodric fought the sudden urge to take a step back out of striking range.
A screech alerted him a second before a hawk careened through the open window. Landing in front of them, it expanded its wings in a threatening motion, clearly telling them to back off. Pulling Celina under his shoulder, Rodric pivoted his body between her and their winged attacker—the same one from the road if he wasn’t mistaken. The hawk let off more hostile energy than its mistress, glaring at them viciously. Connor was not lacking in protectors.
Daya dropped to her knees in front of Connor and clasped his shaking hands, speaking quietly to him. Connor’s head dipped to her chest, his breathing still erratic, voice mumbled.
Celina trembled within his hold, but he wasn’t sure if it stemmed from the fact that she’d inadvertently hurt her brother or general shock that the healing had gone completely wrong. She’d yet to acknowledge the hawk, focusing solely on Connor.
Eventually Connor’s breathing calmed. Daya stood and physically pulled him up, rubbing his back as she propelled him down the hall and around the corner, out of sight.
“I don’t… I didn’t mean…” Celina stammered.
“I know.” He tucked her into a tight hug, keeping an eye on the angry hawk as he did so.
Emotions spinning, he couldn’t decide what he wanted to say, or ask. Magic still terrified him, and this was partially why—havoc wreaked with the best of intentions. He released Celina just as Daya returned.
Her tone was surprisingly quiet for the amount of intensity pouring off of her. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. All I did was try to heal him,” Celina said. “Nothing like that has ever happened before.”
“He’s in pain, and he says his mind feels shattered.”
“He must not be handling the return of his memories well. I’m so sorry.”
“Healing his mind is not the same as helping his body heal. You were supposed to boost his natural ability, not bring all his memory back at once.”
“You’re right, that was what should have happened, but magic can be unpredictable.” Celina’s hand clenched his tightly.
“His mind was keeping his memories shadowed for a reason. It was protecting him. We have no idea the kinds of things he’s done and seen that just got unleashed before his mind was ready to remember them.”
“I wouldneverhurt him.”
“I believe you,” Daya said. “But while your intentions were good, he is hurting right now and needs to rest and recover at his own pace. Please let him.” She gestured toward the back of her house. “Make yourselves at home for the night. He’ll come to you tomorrow when he is ready.”
“Of course,” Celina agreed. “Thank you for letting us stay.”
“You’re his family, so you are welcome here, as are your companions,” Daya told Celina before shifting her attention to Rodric. “But I would appreciate it if you proceed with honesty. If they are still hiding in my trees or sneaking around when I get back, I’ll let my birds treat them as intruders, family or not. This one in particular is not as forgiving as I am.”
The hawk in question gave them a beady-eyed stare as Daya left the house.
Chapter 22
Takingadeep,steadyingbreath, Celina composed herself before entering the kitchen. Rodric had gone to fetch Cass and Sev, giving her the opportunity to talk to her brother alone. She was grateful he understood but nervous after how the previous night had ended. Healings could sometimes be rough on the recipient, but she’d never had one go quite like that.
Steeling herself for what she might find, Celina exhaled and stepped inside. Bright sunlight filtered in through the odd cuts in the ceiling and the open window, illuminating the high table jutting out from the wall that served as a dining space. It was an oval shape, with rounded corners and intricate scenes carved into the dropped edge that wound all the way around the table. It had clearly been well and lovingly made.
Connor sat with a mug of tea, his fingers tracing the images etched on the wood tabletop. Though quiet and calm, he had never been able to keep his hands still. The familiarity of that behavior relieved a tendril of unease that had kept a hold on her.
Turning, his green eyes met hers, and he smiled tiredly. “Morning, Cela.”
Giving up any pretense of calm, she lunged the few feet separating them and hugged him. He was alive, whole, and had his memory back. She choked back tears as she held him close, reveling in the fact that he was really okay.
“You’re wearing mother’s blade.” His voice wavered with intense emotion.
Of course he’d noticed her weapon immediately.Warriors.“I had to come rescue you, so it seemed appropriate,” she said. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, Connor. Cat and I were devastated.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
