“Focus,” Creed demands, turning his attention back to the task at hand. The dead fucking shifters at our feet.
“We need to stay vigilant, explore every angle as Dad would. And do not, under any circumstance, allow yourselves to be -distracted. Our own mother betrayed us not long ago. Let that be your reminder.” His words settle over us, but the only response he gets from me is a single shoulder shrug.
Sinner’s the first to move, circling around to my left like a wolf testing weakness. “So, we’re just gonna ignore that the most likely suspect is also the one person Legend won’t let us interrogate?”
“She’s not a suspect,” I growl. I can’t wait for Sinner to land ass first on his mate.
“Everyone’s a suspect,” Creed corrects, stepping closer. “That’s how investigations work. Or did you forget that part when you became obsessed?”
Knight puts a hand on Creed’s chest. “Creed. Settle.”
Creed shoves it away. “Don’t defend him. He’s not thinking straight.”
“I’m thinking clearer than all of you.” Creed’s always been a pain in my fucking ass, but lately, even he’s pushing it. “The bond—”
“The bond is the problem!” Creed’s shout echoes across the clearing. “It’s clouding your judgment, making you see innocence where there’s only convenient coincidence.”
Silver stands, holding a vial of ash from the symbol. “It’s not just convenient.” He throws the vial to me. I catch it instinctively. The contents hum against my palm, familiar and wrong. “That’s from her hut. Her ashes, Legend. Someone burned her old life and painted it here.”
My fist closes around the vial. Glass cracks.
“Could be a message,” Knight says quietly. “Someone saying ‘I know where you came from.’ A lot of people aren’t happy about her being here.”
“Could be a trophy,” Sinner counters. “Someone bringing their work home.”
Creed’s eyes never leave mine. “Could be a confession.”
I move. I don’t remember deciding to, but suddenly I’m in Creed’s space, chest to chest, magic sparking between us. “Say it again.”
“She’s either the killer, the target, or the trigger.” He doesn’t back down. “And I won’t let your dick destroy this kingdom.”
Knight and Silver grab my arms, pulling me back. I let them, but only because I’m calculating how many bones I can break before they subdue me.
Vicente’s quiet voice slices through the rage, veering us back on track. “What if, whoever this is, is using her as a way to get to Rathe from Exile. Like a portal.”
The wordportalfreezes everyone.
“Go on,” Knight says.
“If this person is somehow linked to her—through the bond, through Exile magic or whatever the hell you want to call it,he could be using her as an anchor. She appears at the scene because he’s pulling her here. Or the magic is.”
“That’s diabolical,” Sinner scoffs.
“So is appearing at a murder scene you didn’t commit,” Vicente shoots back. “The question isn’t whether she’s guilty. It’s whether she’s the weapon or the target.”
The bond in my chest twists. Haide’s fear floods through, clean and sharp, cutting through my anger. Fear? Haide isn’t scared of shit. But I understand it. She’s like a wild animal that’s been placed in a home with rules. Her fear may not look like others’, but it’s there.
“Fuck,” I breathe, the fight draining out of me. “Fuck.”
Creed sees the change. “What now?”
“She’s scared.” I look at my brothers, really look at them. “Not of us.” Because I want to make that very fucking clear. “Ofthis. Of being among a world she’s not sure of.”
“Then,” Knight hesitates, “we keep an eye on her.”
Sinner rolls his eyes. “Poetic.”
“Practical,” Creed corrects. “If she’s being used, we need to find the hand moving her. If she’s using us, we need to know before the body count rises.”
