I’d do anything for that expression.
I uncrossed my arms and tried to sound calm. “I didn’t lie. I’m your hound, and now everyone knows it. We’ll stand in front of you as shields and serve you, in this war and beyond. We won’t let anyone hurt you—ever.”
She exhaled a cloud of smoke. “That’s exactly why we’ll never work.”
“Excuse me?”
She grimaced. “You keep missing the point—I don’t need anyone to protect me.”
“It is fundamentally our role to protect you,” I said with agitation. “You don’t understand our culture.”
“I got you a cinnamon pretzel.” Sadie pushed past me and handed a sugary monstrosity to Arabella. “I couldn’t remember if you ate butter, so I told them to not use it. Also, Cobra tried to take a bite, but I stabbed him with a plastic knife.”
My Revered smiled at her idiotic whore of a friend and took the stupid pretzel like it was a priceless gift.
“Can we buy matching diamond push-up bras?” Sadie asked as she hugged her. “I was thinking it would raise our morale in battle if we knew we had them beneath our outfits.”
“They’re uniforms, not outfits,” I corrected her idiotic ramblings.
“Or we could both free ball it,” Sadie continued like I hadn’t spoken. “Pro is we’ll feel very empowered joining the free the nipple campaign. Con is that it might hurt if we get punched in the chest.”
Instead of pushing Sadie away and telling her to stop her moronic drivel, Arabella’s face lit up like she’d stepped in sunshine. “Amazing ideas. Great battle strategizing.”
There it was.
My Revered’s softness.
The problem was it wasn’t for me. Sadie preened and tugged my Revered away from me. “Let’s go to another store.”
I imagined setting her white hair up in flames.
Arabella looked back at me, and her smile fell. “You don’t understand my culture. I don’t need shields. I just want friends who stand by my side.” She turned her back to me and walked away.
I exhaled flames and the hollowness in my chest expanded.
If that was what she needed, I would show her I could be that man. Even if it killed me.
Chapter 30
Aran
NECKLACE OF DEATH
Disconsolate (adjective): dejected, downcast.
DAY 22, HOUR 3
The men snored loudly in the dark room.
As per usual, their testosterone-addled brains, overinflated senses of self-worth, and general delusion allowed them to sleep peacefully after a long day of disturbing everyone in public.
I was not so lucky.
Because of them, I’d seen things I could never forget.
At the mall, Malum had picked out a pair of expensive skull earrings and put them in his ears, which normally would not be concerning.
However, normal people had their ears pierced before they tried on earrings.
He hadn’t.
The jeweler had gaped in horror as Malum waved his painted nails and grinned in the mirror. He’d said that he’d take the skulls while blood rolled down the sides of his neck.
Then Scorpius had sniffed the air creepily and sauntered over. He’d fingered the bloody jewels in his mate’s ears and had immediately demanded a pair for himself, then he’d stabbed them through his lobes in solidarity. And since all men were lunatics, Orion didn’t want to be left out, so he’d also pierced himself with a pair.
At this point, I’d had to walk away from them out of sheer embarrassment.
Now, lying in the bedroom, I shuddered thinking about how they were still wearing the bloody earrings.
The worst part—skull earrings and painted nails looked good on them. The accessories went well with their tattoos.
Sun god I’m screwed.
Snores echoed as I tossed and turned.
A blizzard raged outside. Wind howled and rattled the window and door, while snow somehow slipped through cracks and drifted inside.
Flurries swirled inside the room, and the flakes gathered on my face.
The men slept peacefully.
I shivered.
Wide awake.
Luka’s arm was hanging over the edge of the bunk above, and my right hand was reaching up, tangled in his grasp. My fingers tingled from loss of circulation, but I had no urge to pull my hand away.
I had bigger problems.
The jewel of death pulsed against my chest like a heartbeat intensifying.
The vibrations increased like the stone was trying to burrow underneath my skin and crawl into the emptiness that plagued me. I wrapped my left hand around the unnaturally warm stone.
My fingers buzzed from the force, and my forearm twitched.
Something was happening.
Maybe the Necklace of Death was trying to live up to its name and kill me?
Light suddenly exploded from the necklace.
I squinted as the new brightness burned my eyes.
The wooden bunk above my head was illuminated.
My breathing was loud and strangled as ice spread from my fingertips. It crawled across the bottom of the bunk that hung close to my head and coated it in a blue sheen.
Someone snored loudly across the room, and it startled me. I swallowed a scream.
My nerves were electrocuted from stress, and the cavernous hole inside my soul was expanding to consume my existence.
The jewel vibrated against my heart, and then there was an odd snapping sensation inside my sternum. Snowflakes swirled.
Everything went dark.
Chapter 31
John
CURSED
Portentous (adjective): being a grave or serious matter.
DAY 22, HOUR 3
I sat up in my bunk, heaving, with my hands placed over my heart like I was trying to keep it from falling out of my chest.
Unfamiliar panic filled my bones.
The darkness of the bedroom was stifling, and I must have been hallucinating, because snow drifted through the air.
The pressure inside my chest was unbearable.
I patted against my sternum like I was putting out a fire, half expecting to feel ravaged flesh, but my skin was warm and unblemished.
The pulsing sensation continued.
Were we under attack? Were the Fates themselves tearing me apart from within for failing to do my duty to the realm like Uncle always warned they might?
If so, I had no regrets.
Even with my chest tearing apart in pain, I knew I’d do nothing differently. There was no other choice I’d ever have made. I would always choose Aran and Luka before any duty.
I’d do nothing differently.
Legs jackknifing, I collapsed back onto my covers, writhing in pain, clawing at my heart as the agony ate me apart from the inside. The bunk bed jostled violently beneath me.
I wanted to make sure Luka and Aran were okay, but I couldn’t do anything but lie paralyzed. I twitched like I was electrocuted.
The pressure mounted until tears dripped out of the corners of my eyes.
My thoughts were scattered and jagged, and it was impossible to understand where I began, and where the pain ended. We were one.
One thought penetrated the blinding agony—I never got to tell Aran I love her.
Chapter 32
Luka
BONDS
Cimmerian (adjective): very dark or gloomy.
DAY 22, HOUR 3
My eyes shot open.