“There was a lot of damage to the lower levels,” Logan said. “The first blast was dulled by the reinforced walls they installed a year ago. Fortunately, it served as a warning and got most of us moving before the next run of them.”
Logan had apparently been protected by one of those walls, and had returned to his room in time for the second blast, the one that had thrown me into a wall, to find six of Morgan’s men waiting for him. He’d been lucky to get out before that wing collapsed.
“And the fire,” Emily added.
“Yes,” Logan said, his gaze sliding away briefly. “The final detonation ignited the estate. But most of the Division men escaped with their lives.”
“Wesley?” I asked.
“He’s fine,” Emily promised. “He’d tried to stop Morgan, but he’s recovering well from the fight. Eric and Seth got both he and Brendan out in time.”
Brendan. They’d not repeated Morgan’s story, not mentioned that he was the person responsible for his escape, but I could tell by the way Logan’s fist tightened against his leg that they knew.
Emily stood, handing me the folded paper of our mother’s letter, and said, “Logan saved it. And there’s something else, Brianna.” I glanced up at her. “The other prophet, the one of the Seven Lines, she was a plant.”
A shadow.
I stared at her, the gravity of her words sinking in, and knew that she, that Aern and Logan, understood as well as I did what it meant. There were no prophets within the Seven Lines. She’d been a shade, a shadow. One of us.
And they’d been hiding shadows amongst the Seven for as long as the prophecy existed.
When I came out of the shower, Logan was still there, watching my door. While Emily was in the room, he’d splashed his face, changed his shirt, but he hadn’t moved in the half hour since she’d gone.
“Logan,” I said, crossing to sit on the small sofa beside him, “you need rest. You need a shower.”
He reached for my hand, turning it so that his finger rested over the base of my tattoo, just below the line of damage left by the ties, and said. “No.”
I tilted my head to see his face, his dark amber eyes, and his square jaw. “No?”
His gaze met mine, unflinching, and he said, “I’m not leaving you, Brianna. Not again.”
My heart clenched as the moment changed. They weren’t just words, they were a confession, a promise. And not from my protector. From Logan.
His hand slid to my waist, pulling me onto his lap, and his words returned to my mind full force. Is it now? I hadn’t recognized it, distracted as I was, but the scene fell into place. This was my Logan, this was the vision. His thumb skimmed over the skin of my waist, but when it passed near my scar, it didn’t bring that unease it had before. This time, the response was purely physical. I shivered, whispering his name.
He stared into my eyes, and I wanted him to kiss me.
Is it now? He had asked so many times, my gaze fell to his lips, waiting. I had his answer, but he didn’t ask. When he finally decided, wanted it the way that I wanted it, he simply took my mouth with his, pressing me against him as my heart raced. And it wasn’t what I’d seen, wasn’t what I’d expected. Every sensation I was missing in the vision was magnified in the soft warmth of his lips, the way his hands felt against the bare skin of my waist. This was not the kiss that had been repeated since I was a girl. That vision could not encompass the fluttering ache in my chest, his scent, the very taste of him as his lips moved softly over mine.
Slowly, I drew away, staring into his eyes, and Logan wiped a tear from my cheek with the pad of his thumb. I understood something then, something that I’d not allowed myself much time to focus on, because the visions only showed me pivotal moments. This vision, this kiss, was a moment that would decide me forever.
I was his.
I slid a hand to his chest, just to touch him, and felt a vague pang of disappointment that we’d not created a physical bond, not in the way that Emily and Aern had. I wondered if Logan felt that way, too, as I remembered his words, the questions he’d had about their connection. I leaned forward, brushing my lips to his once more, and the words aligned in my mind. The heir to the dragon’s name will rule with their union.
“Aern,” I breathed, and Logan’s eyes snapped open at the sound of another man’s name between us.
The confusion on his face was so adorable, the utter relief at finally having the key such a reprieve, that I barked out a laugh.
Clearly Logan didn’t think it was funny.
“Aern,” I said. “It’s the bond, Logan. That’s the reason I can’t find the connection in Emily. Because it’s not there.” I leaned back, shaking my head. “It’s there, but … just not where I was looking for it. It’s in her bond, her link with Aern.”
Logan looked torn, unsure what to make of this abrupt change in direction, how to deal with it.
“That’s why we don’t have it,” I whispered, fingers curling into his shirt, “because I’m Emily’s opposite, Logan. I can repair the connections, she destroys them.”