The world twisted, the forest dissolved as the magic spun around him, and then everything went dark.
5
Reaper leaped to his feet,and the kitchen exploded into action around him. He bolted for the stairs. Something deep inside him urged him to move faster. In his head, he could hear the howling of a wolf.
Is that Cian’s wolf?
Why did it piss him off that the wolf sounded in pain? He pounded toward the Fianna Door, paying no attention to the branches that slapped at his body. He just needed to get there. His foot caught on something hidden beneath the grass, and he stumbled forward, barely remaining on his feet, only to surge forward again as fast as he could.
“Jesus, Reap, don’t faceplant,” Viper yelled from behind him.
“I’m fine. If you’re coming, move your ass.”
Can I cross the door?
Guess we’ll find out.
He skidded to a stop, almost slamming into the rocks of the Dolmen, his jaw clenched so tight his molars ached. The mark on his arm itched like a motherfucker, the red tendrils creeping higher, wrapping around his bicep, and it just wouldn’t stop fucking growing. He rubbed his palm over it because the sensation under his skin was a distraction, something real to focus on instead of the fact that he was about to step into the goddamn fairy realm a-freakin-gain because some ancient wolf-walker blood in his veins said so.
This is fucking insane.
Viper moved up beside him, his presence a solid, familiar weight. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, low enough that only Reaper could hear, but the intent behind his words was clear. Viper had his back. Always.
Reaper exhaled sharply through his nose. “Yeah, I do.” He flexed his fingers, the need to do something—punch a wall, fire a weapon, run—hummed under his skin, screaming for action. “Trace said if I don’t, we both die. And I’m not about to let some ancient warrior kick the bucket through the gates of Valhalla because I don’t want to be the dumbass in a shitty-as-fuck relationship with someone on a power trip again.”
Viper’s lips pressed into a thin line and his eyebrows flew upwards, “Excuse me, what?”
Shit.
Reaper squeezed his eyes shut. “Later. I’ll tell you about Derek, the asshole, later. Right now—” he gestured toward the Dolmen, “let’s just see what the hell is going on through there, first, ’kay?”
“Hmm.” Viper was clearly not thrilled at having to wait for intel, but thankfully, he let it go as the others fanned out around them, their stances loose but ready. Juice and Trace stood side by side as had become their normal. Ward was already muttering under his breath, his fingers tracing patterns in the air as he worked the Fianna glyphs and Ogham with his druid magic. Zero and Kaze flanked the group. Even though they knew the threat wasn’t on this side of the door, their eyes scanned the tree line, weapons at the ready. Reaper would’ve laughed if the whole situation wasn’t so goddamn surreal.
A firefight in Tir na nÓg. This is becoming a freaking habit.
The door pulsed again, the light flaring brighter, and a gust of wind kicked up, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and ozone after a lightning strike. Reaper’s stomach twisted.
That’s him. That’s Cian.
Why the fuck can I smell him?
I need to nope right on out of this situation.
STAT
The realization of why hit him like a sucker punch, and he staggered back a step, his boot catching on a root. Viper’s hand shot out, gripping his shoulder to steady him. “You good?”
No. I’m not fucking good.
Some fucker in Fateville fucking manor has decided the rest of my life for me.
I swear to fuck, if this shit sucks too much, I’m planting an IED under their fucking asses.
Bastards.
But he jerked his chin in a sharp nod anyway, because what else was hesupposed to do? Admit that the scent of a man he barely knew made his skin prickle and his pulse race like he’d just chugged ten espressos after a twenty-klick ruck, lugging an eighty-pounder? Or that the mark creeping and crawling up his arm was strangling every vein and bone it encountered.
Ward’s lips moved as he said words, but no sound came from his lips. The air around the Dolmen crackled with energy, and the hairs on the back of Reaper’s neck stood on end.
