The second wizard rolls his eyes. “On the authority of the Witch and Wizard Council.”
My heart, which is currently lying on the ground, flops over. “What?”
“Now, move,” the second wizard snarls. “This is your final warning.”
“You can’t do this.”
They exchange a look, and the first one shakes his head as if wondering how he got stuck with the job of dealing with the hysterical witch in front of him. When he turns to me, his face sinks with pity.
“Look. Your mother’s already trying to talk to the council, but there’s nothing you can do here unless you can convincehimto change his mind. And I doubt you will.”
“Him, who?”
The other wizard thumbs over his shoulder. “Back there.”
My gaze sweeps past them, and that’s when I see him. Even though he’s standing in shadow, I would know that silhouette anywhere.
Feylin.
An electrical pulse flares down my spine at the sight of him. Shadows gobble him up, and it’s impossible to tell if the darkness is from the lack of witch lights or if it’s leaking from his very soul.
Either way, fury wraps around my body and pulls tight. He can’t do this. He can’t shut down the shop.
Still clutching the books, I charge between the wizards and head over.
Blair intercepts me, grabbing my sleeve. Her gaze flicks worriedly to Feylin. “Mama’s trying to stop this. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“I’m not waiting for her. If we don’t do something now, they’ll have all the books gone by the time she gets here. I know what I’m doing.”
I don’t but that’s not important. I shrug off her hold and storm over.
He stands in shadows like he’s become them, and his aura’s so dark that it steals my breath. “Feylin, what are you doing?”
He doesn’t answer, but anger rolls off him in waves of energy so thick that it’s suffocating.
“You will talk to me!”
I charge up, stopping only feet away. He lifts his head and takes a step forward. The shadows slip off as he steps into a pool of light.
It’s the look in his eyes that makes me stop breathing. Those eyes, which once held a world of softness in them, are now as hard as diamond-encrusted daggers.
I swallow past the watermelon-sized knot in my throat. My fingers tremble as they clutch the books harder to my chest. There’s nothing but malice in his gaze as he drinks me in, noting the way my hair’s piled on top of my head before his gaze flicks to the dress I’m wearing.
It must look like I jumped right back into the dating circuit as soon as we ended things, ready to find a husband.
It only deepens the betrayal in his eyes.
“You can’t do this,” I manage, doing everything to keep my voice steady. “I know you hate me. But you can’t close the shop. It’s my family’s livelihood.”
“They should have thought about that before they let an innocent die.”
“It was an accident. Feylin, you’ve got to?—”
“Believe you?”
He stalks forward, his feet eating the cobblestones that separate us. A wall of his magic slams into me. It’s thick, stifling and steeped in betrayal, rage. That same rage burns in his eyes. When he stops in front of me, our chests are so close that they nearly touch. I’m forced to bend my neck just to keep eye contact.
A muscle in his jaw feathers as he glares down at me. “Why should I believe you?”
