“Don’t give into it, Ry,” Wyn said, her voice shaking as I felt the shield begin to slip, her exhausted magic retreating back into her.
I wanted to scream at her not to leave, but with one look, I knew there was nothing I could do to stop her. Besides, what little calm I had been given had been a lifesaver. Like a reset button, it had given me another chance to gain control of my mind.
I lay back against the wall as I prepared for the onslaught and steeled my mind against the voice that was coming. I promised myself I could defeat it, even if I felt as weak as Wyn looked.
The stone was strangely comforting as I huddled against it, pressing myself into it, wishing that somehow I could fall asleep and escape the voice for a while along with the acute longing to attack and hunt Jos down.
This much anger, this much hatred wasn’t me. Well, it didn’t used to be. Not before my father took control. Not before he changed me.
Before him I would have done anything for Jos. I sacrificed myself for her, because of the carefree life she gave me.
He had taken that all away.
I pressed my body into the stone again, right as it began to shake, right as the feral sounds of a never-ending pain echoed through the abbey, rippling through my bones until it was as if I felt it for myself.
I knew exactly what it was.
“What was that?” Wyn asked, her voice sounding half exasperated and half fearful as the building shook underneath us again.
“Ilyan,” was all I said, grateful when my brother’s name on my tongue didn’t insight another onslaught of anger and fear. Though the voice screamed within me, I ignored it, at least for now.
“Ilyan?” Wyn asked, more in surprise than in question. “What happened? They couldn’t have been fighting, could they?”
“Nothing is perfect, Wynifred,” Thom grumbled from beside her. “If their porcelain chamber pot didn’t break soon, I was going to smash it against the wall. It’s about time they went at each other’s throats.”
Wyn nodded numbly as the yells continued, the abbey continued to shake and tremble with his pain. We sat there in silence, waiting for it to slow, waiting for it to calm. It never did, though. It only grew until my own heart began to ache with him.
“Shit storm or no, I am beginning to wish Talon was still here,” Thom said, his hand moving up and down Wyn’s arm as she flinched, the sound of her mate’s name causing her physical pain.
“I guess I better stop it before it gets to out of control.” Thom spoke as though it was the most unsavory thing in the world, a severe lack of disinterest making me question his intentions. Then again, as the room rumbled and yet another scream of pain and heartbreak roared around us, I guessed I could see why he wouldn’t want to go to his brother.
Our brother.
Thom sighed and pressed Wyn against him in farewell. Dust fell around us like rain, the abbey rumbling right alongside it. Then, without out another word, he stood and moved toward the door, his dreads swinging wildly with the movement.
“You coming?” Thom asked before he had moved more than a few steps.
I froze at the question,
“I’m sorry?” I could barely get the words out. He couldn’t be talking about me, could he? He shouldn’t be. Putting me before Ilyan right now would be madness.
Thom only laughed. I guessed madness was his forte.
“He’s your brother, too. You know, family sticks together and all that. One of the many lessons our loving father taught us.”
“But, it might … I mean … I know why he’s…”
“So do I.” Thom spoke sadly as he looked toward the sound of breaking glass and crumbling stone. The first real sighting of emotion in him seemed very out of place against the tough biker guy that stood before me.
“I would only try to kill him.”
“Your choice. Soon, you will have to get to know who your family really is.” He began to move before he had finished, leaving me cowering against the wall with Sain’s hand firmly on my knee, the pressure keeping me in place more than anything.
“Sain”— Thom turned as he stood in the doorframe, his forehead wrinkled in an emotion that didn’t quite meet his eyes—“will you take Wyn back to her room … or at least pretend to? We all know she has no intention of staying there, after all.”
His voice was so flat I couldn’t be sure if he had spoken in jest in or in truth, but Sain only laughed and nodded in agreement.
I didn’t know what to make of Thom. He was far too quiet and sullen for me. The idea that we shared a father, that we were related, seemed a little too ridiculous.
Thom stuffed his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket then walked out of the room in a shuffle, his shoulders hunched as if he had been born with a hump.
I watched him go, the voice growing steadily louder as I fought it, fought the pull to follow Thom out of the room, though I knew it was an impossibility. I knew I couldn’t fight the voice for much longer.
No matter how hard I tried.
You should kill him, too.
Thom and Ilyan.
You should kill them.
I should?
Four