Page 87 of Reaper’s Curse

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Winter hoped he wasn’t lying.

Earl was already afflicted. What else could possibly happen to him?

“I’m sure you’re right.” Aoes ushered Winter into the room and shut the door. He grabbed the bottle of whisky from the table and poured them each a drink. Offered Winter a glass. “So…what secretive upchuck is going on?”

Winter stared at the amber liquid. After what he’d done several nights prior—the drinking, the magic high, his actions toward Raven… Winter couldn’t bring himself to take a drink. He accepted the glass, set it aside, and proceeded to ignore it.

He began to pace. “Remember the day Raven dragged a comatose me back here through the tunnels and did whatever it was she did that pulled me back to the living?”

“How could I ever forget?” Aoes watched his friend with clear concern in his gaze.

“Something happened when she did what she did,” Winter continued. “And she ended up with some of my magic under her skin.”

“What!” Aoes jerked, sloshing alcohol over the sides of his glass. “You used to pack some pretty potent stuff. Is she all right?”

“Yeah.” He scratched his chest. “Well, I think she is. She says she is, but I seriously messed up with her.”

“Hey. Calm down.” Aoes grabbed Winter’s shoulder and stopped the male’s pacing. “Take a seat and tell me what happened.”

Winter followed his friend’s suggestion, dropping onto the nearest seat. A worn leather wingback. Aoes settled onto the adjacent sofa and leaned into the conversation.

“She had my magic,” Winter said. “So, with her express approval, I extracted it. Took it back. It was a lot, and I think it scared her, but she’s all right…so she says. But when I took back my magic, I kind of lost control. It was like when we used to share at parties, but a thousand times more intense. Lucas had to lock me up for four days before I settled enough to be around her again. And I’m still not sure I’m ready.”

His gaze wandered to the glass of liquor he’d abandoned. Maybe he should have kept it closer.

“Lucas put this on me, though.” He lifted his hand, showing off his iron bracelet. “So that’s helping.”

Aoes stood, his body shaking with what looked like nervous energy. “If you’re in danger of relapsing, maybe Raven shouldn’t be staying under the same roof as you. Not if she’s too tempting. She could come back here. I still have her room.”

Of course Aoes still had her room. There hadn’t been an influx of visitors to the citadel since the curse began. But that was beside the point.

“I don’t think she should leave the palace,” Winter said, recalling the contents of Chace’s letter.

“And why is that?” Aoes asked. “If you start tripping and she’s conveniently close⁠—”

“Chace wants her to stay at the palace,” Winter blurted. “He thinks it’s safer.”

Aoes raised an eyebrow and stared at Winter. “And when did you talk to Chace?”

“I haven’t.”

“Then how do you know?”

Winter tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “I just do. You’ll need to trust me on that.”

Aoes knocked back his drink, swallowing the full glass of liquid in one shot. He set down the empty glass and leaned against the back credenza. Breathed in silence for a moment, or five.

“I don’t think⁠—”

A knock came at the door, stilling the conversation and robbing Winter of Aoes’s forthcoming thought. Winter dropped his head, pressing his hands to his temples, as Aoes answered the door.

The pub manager sucked back a breath. “Hey.” He pulled the door tight to his side, blocking any view of Winter from whomever stood in the hall. “Have I told you how different your signature looks since you woke up from that fever?”

Signature? Was Aoes talking about his magical gift? Winter hadn’t heard the guy talk about aura signatures in years.

The door swung open, pushed by the person in the hall—Chace. His gaze swept past Aoes and fell directly on Winter.

Tall, tense, and exuding a darker essence than he recalled the man previously hosting, Chace stalked into the room, looking every bit the beast ready to raise hell or raze kingdoms. Winter’s magic recoiled, recognizing something Winter failed to glean.