Hands slid beneath my arms and yanked me upright. I didn’t fight it. Not when Caius dragged me toward the wall, not when he shoved me back against the cold wood and pinned me there.
???
They were here.
My heart thundered in my chest, a frantic rhythm that pulsed all the way to my wrists, bound high above my head. My body was stretched taut. A knife hovered dangerously close to my throat.
The Scions shifted in place. They had been ready for this, stony expressions locked on the door, waiting for my friends. For him. My stomach churned as I beheld my captors. The trap they laid.
The storm outside howled louder.
Even though I didn’t know how he’d found us, Reagan had come for me. Maybe some breadcrumbs Varian had deliberately left behind. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the turbulent wind shrieking through the trees, the tempestuous rain slamming against the roof, and whatever these bastards had planned to do. Whatever he would see when he looked at me.
I was a weakness, and Varian had seen it, exploited it.
The door slammed open, and three figures stood there, water dripping from their cloaks. Reagan’s rage filled the air like a thunderstorm, his fists clenched at his sides, his face sombre, tight, and covered in shadows.
His gaze landed on me, and I almost shuddered. Relief and angst. Thunder cracked outside, shaking the walls, a violent echoof the storm he brought with him. Those dark pools of rage swept over me, taking in every brutal detail—the knife pressed against my throat, the grip anchoring me in place, the bruises marring my arms and legs, the blood crusting the split in my cheek.
Tendrils of lightning coiled from his hands, thick and writhing, but I wasn’t sure he even noticed. His jaw locked, his shoulders taut with barely restrained wrath. For a single, breathless moment, the entire room stilled. Even my captors hesitated, didn’t move.
Then Finn and Gwin stepped in behind him, their shock lasting only a second before it was swallowed by unbridled rage. Finn’s mouth curled into a snarl. Gwin’s eyes narrowed into slits, assessing and fiendish.
Caius stood at my side, keeping me bound. The knife hovered closer, close enough for the scent of rusted metal to fill my nose. He didn’t look at me. His gaze was fixed on Reagan, daring him to take one wrong step.
Varian was in front of us, standing between the other two Scions, his posture perfectly calm.
I wanted to warn them about the trap in the next room, but Caius had promised that knife would find a lung if I tried, and the odds were worse against me than against them.
Reagan’s voice was a low, grave sound that drifted over the room.
“You have no idea what you’ve done. Tell your lackey to put that knife down before I kill him with it.”
Varian’s lips curved into a mocking smile. “You don’t give orders here, cousin,” he said lightly. “I didn’t want her to get hurt, but you forced my hand, since you banned me from my estate.”
Reagan’s eyes swept around the ceiling, as if he were sensing the ward. He assessed the room, searching for weaknesses in the barrier they’d erected there, searching in Varian himself.
Gwinifer’s gaze flicked to mine, and I widened my eyes, willing her to understand as I glanced toward the adjoining room on the right, then back to her. She followed, her brows furrowing.
Reagan glowered at Caius, the muscles bunching in his jaw, a concentration that meant an attack. But nothing came. Caius didn’t bleed. No, they had prepared for that. So he looked. Searched. Weighed the options.
Strike, and that knife would slash my throat.
“What is your plan here? Threaten me? Do you think I’m going to let you walk out of here with whatever you want?” Reagan asked.
The Scions stood stiff, almost unmoving, except for the one who glanced warily over his shoulder at Varian, who didn’t so much as flinch.
“I think you’ll want to hear my proposal. Otherwise, Miss Darling will have some rather ugly cuts on her neck to add to the nasty bruises. And it is such a pretty neck, isn’t it?” he said, throwing a sneer at me. “A delicate neck, one I had the pleasure of tasting this evening when she fell for my glamour.”
I could almost feel it again, the drag of his tongue on my skin. Varian’s tongue.
Reagan’s eyes slid to mine, noting my blink before returning to his cousin. The expression on his face had thickened the air, like a promise of ruthless intent.
“Not even Godric himself will be able to help you when I’m done with you,” he said. “I promise you.”
Varian only held his gaze, then gave a subtle nod to Caius.
The knife moved up and closer, grazing my cheek. My breath hitched as it carved a slow, searing line across my skin. The sting burnt hot, sharp enough to make me grimace.
