My chest detonates. The bond screamsmineso violently it feels like my ribs are splitting apart. Like something feral is clawing its way out of my skin to get to her, to bite, protect.
My vision tunnels, heat flooding my veins, instincts crashing over reason in a brutal, blind demand to destroy first and think later.
She’s hurt. She’s bleeding. You fucking failed her.
“What happened? Who did this?” Panic closes around my throat, but as I reach out to her, the scent hits me and it’s wrong.
Not her blood.
I blink, and just like that, the haze clears. “I thought…”
For a moment, her features seem to soften before she forces a frown.
Creed appears beside me a second later, his expression going hard at her presence.
Knight straightens from where he’s crouched. “What the hell—”
“I don’t—” Her voice cracks, raw and wrecked. She stares at her hands, at the blood coating them, trembling. “I was in my room reading over what Professor Astra said today about—” Her lips clamp shut, and her eyes slide to me. “Never mind. It’s not important. I was reading and then I was here.”
“Wow. She knows how to read.” Sinner smirks.
I make a mental note to figure out what professor Astra is teaching her, because it must be good if she’s being tight-lipped—my girl loves to speak her mind.
I move closer, and the bond hums between us, confirming what I already know in my bones. She’s telling the truth. I can feel it, absolute.
But Creed’s not convinced. His jaw tightens as he stalks toward her, hands raised like he’s dealing with something wild. “You’re portalling.”
“I sure as fuck would be…if I knew how!” She snarls, shoving to her feet. Blood drips from her fingers, and the sight of it makes something primal twist in my chest. “I can’t even make a fucking feather float! It’s like I said, I was doing what you asked—stupid school shit—and then I woke up in a goddamn murder scene!”
“You’re a lying little—”
“Enough, brother,” I cut in. “She said she doesn’t know how she got here and she’s telling the truth.”
Creed glares my way but remains silent. I know my brother. He’s biting his tongue, and he’s never been very good at that.
Knight circles the body closest to us, a frown building over his brows.
“What is it?”
“What it isn’t is random.” Knight frowns. “This feels targeted.”
“Feels personal,” Silver, Knight’s best friend and our newly appointed Grand Healer, adds. His duty above all is to keep us alive when we fail to do so ourselves, which makes himour happy little shadow. “Could be revenge. A lover’s vendetta, maybe.”
“Against an entire bloodline?” Knight raises a brow.
Silver shrugs. “You’ve seen what grief can do.”
Vicente shakes his head. “No. This wasn’t rage. This was deliberate. Calculated.”
Vicente is Silver’s father and was our father’s most trusted and number one warrior. His dedication earned him the coveted spot as the King’s Guardian. Now, he serves as ours.
I glance back at the bodies and the way they’re positioned—almost staged. “Then whoever did this wanted the scene found. But what the hell does that mean?” I jerk my chin toward the scribble on the wall.
“Too subtle?” Silver scoffs. “And I thought we were fucked-up.”
“Family dispute?” Knight suggests, jaw tight as he stares at the message, trying to work it out.
“Doesn’t make sense, they’re all here.”
