I grabbed her chin to force her to meet my eyes, but she jerked her head and shook off my hold.
No. Not her. Their bond. It was like it knew what I was about to do and had adapted to stop me.
“Hellion, look at me!”
I switched back to my normal sight, her glowing body vanishing from view. But she was still warm and solid in my arms.
She could find my gold eyes in the darkness. She alwayscould.
“Let me go!” she seethed.
“No. I won’t let you near MJ until you let me help you.” I took her entire jaw in my palm and forced it up. But her damned eyes were closed.
“Lucille,” I barked.
“You will not beat me,” she said, voice low and sweet. Not her.
Before I could force her eyes open, the energy inside her shifted again—no longer vengeful. Something darker took hold, sinking into her essence. Her winterberry scent turned bitter. The brushes of her soul against mine scraped over the places she should’ve easily fit into. I winced, my arm tightening around her as I fought the desire to release her. Anger slithered through her emotions, dredged up by the sinister energy taking over.
It was pissed. I was a threat to it, and it wanted me gone.
She relaxed in my arms, surprising me. The dark energy within her expanded, hiding all emotion. A flash of purple flickered around her hand, then vanished.
“Lucille?”
She responded with a hiss.
Confused, I flipped to my thermal vision.
An icicle slipped from her palm, the tip coated in something warm. Gradually, the dark energy shrank, releasing her. As it faded from her mind, her emotions flooded back. She was in pain.
My praesidium woke inside me, my shadows whipping around us as if to fend off attackers. Only, there was no one near us. No one hurt my hellion.
She did it to herself. The bond made her.
No. It was too soon. The guardian bond couldn’t be seeking penance already. Could it? Or had I done something to trigger it?
I released her and reeled in my shadows, giving everyone back their sight. The hellion clutched her cheek, keeping her attention on the ground. She wouldn’t look at any of us. Clenching my jaw, I searched for the pet, hoping I was wrong, knowing I wasn’t.
He stood off to the side, frowning at Lucille. And I saw it—the long cut across his cheek.
The hellion grabbed my arm. “It’s nothing. It’s not his fault.”
I slowly turned my attention back to her. Blood smeared her face and continued to drip from her wound onto the snow. The cut was wide and angry, worse than the damned pet’s. I released a wisp of shadows, letting them fill her cut until we saw Sam.
“Aspen, it’s fine. I’m fine!” she insisted, dropping my arm to cover her wound as if we all hadn’t seen it.
“Fine?” He scoffed. “Fine? This”—he gestured violently to his face—“is nothing compared to yours. What happens if I get a small cut on my arm? Will you stab yourself? Will you cut off your limb? How much more do you expect me to take from you and be able to live with?” he shouted.
I stared at the pet—the threat—the darkness within me pulsing. It wanted to destroy him. Take him out of the equation. Keep her from harming herself for him. She shouldn’t have to give him anything else. Ever.
He met my gaze, his emotions laid bare. Anguish. Guilt. A bone-crushing defeat. I saw it all, corroding what was left of his mental fragility. I could even see the question he didn’t dare voice in front of her. The one that would silence the tormenting images. End the voices that told him he was a disgusting stain on existence. Not worthy. Nothing.
His eyes begged me to do it. I wanted nothing more.
My fingers twitched.
He nodded.
