Stone warned us, but I assumed he was embellishing a bit in his meltdown. He’d just found his mate in the damn hospital after being gutted, so of course he’d zero in on every scar with blinding rage. Who wouldn’t? Never did I expect it tothisextent, and I finally understand why he’s been such a distraught mess.
All of her scars are long since faded, slightly paler than her golden skin, pearlescent when the light hits them at the right angle. But there aredozens,each design hand-carved. Some are a series of nonsensical swirls, or basic images depicting the elements, but it’s never the same one twice. Worse, though, is her upper left arm, where the scar tissue is raised and an angry shade of dark pink. It’s a mass of straight lines crossing over a center circle like a morbid, violent sun, almost as if-
She was branded and tried to cover it up.
Gods only know what state the rest of her body is in. Whether it was done at her stalker's hands or not, I lay the blame solely at his feet. If she wasn't forced to live out of her car to hide from him, she'd never have been in the position to get hurt, but the twisting sensation in my gut leads me to believe it was his doing.
My chair jolts from Kodi’s discreet kick, and when I meet his equally livid gaze, he pointedly flicks his eyes down to my chest. The discontented rumble cuts off instantly, not even aware of the slip until he drew my attention to it. With a slight tip of my head in thanks, we return to our inspection, silently seething.
With the utmost care, Stone gathers her hair into a ponytail, checking her shoulders and the nape of her neck. Lifting it higher, his sharp intake of breath sucks all of the oxygen from the room. I’m only vaguely aware of Kodiak’s shoulders hunching inward, each of my heartbeats heavier than the last.
Hand trembling slightly, Stone withdraws his phone and takes a picture of her mark, hidden just beneath her hairline. Letting her hair fall back in place, he passes his phone over her shoulder, offering it to her without a word.
The silence is deafening, stretching on for far too long as she stoically stares down at the screen. Even I flinch the moment it shatters with her harsh, “The universe thinks it's really fucking hilarious, doesn't it?”
“What do you mean?”
She whirls around, jaw clenched as she pushes out through gritted teeth, “Pen.”
Stone slips one from his pocket, and she sets his phone on the table to take it from him, still clutching her shirt to her chest. Dumping all of the paperwork out onto the table, she sketches on the folder, the shape of the tribal dragon head on Stone’s side quickly taking form. Circling a section of it, she demands, “You three are it in your legion?”
“That’s correct.”
At my confirmation, she splits the last of the mark in two sections with a violent slash of her pen. Shoving the folder across the table, then the phone, she yanks on her shirt as I pull them closer to see what she’s talking about.
Kodi perks up beside me, murmuring in awe, “No fucking way.”
Everything fades to white noise, the ringing in my ears making the room close in as I stare down at the images in front of me.
This isn’t possible.
Yet, no matter how long I stare at the phone, the picture doesn’t change. Amara’s mark appears like indistinct black slashes on its own, but when compared against Stone’s? There’s no denying it’s a perfect match... to the bottom left corner.
Chapter 10
Amara
