Waleron was six foot three, kept his head shaved, and had ice-blue eyes, which on occasion had been known to look almost white when he was pissed—although he rarely lost his cool. He had one hell of a snake tattoo. His Ink came up from under his black T-shirt to his neck and curled behind his left ear.
As far as I knew, Waleron’s Ink hadn’t been released since the day he escaped from that bitch Lilac’s lair. It wasn’t exactly known what happened, only that Waleron and his Scar went insane with fury. When he returned, he was cool and calm like always, as if he hadn’t been tortured and held captive for sixty-one years. Except it was a different calmness, more like a silence of emotion.
His ice-blue eyes turned to me, and they weren’t happy. “You went back to the compound when I specifically said it was off-limits until we assessed the situation.”
“She needed out.” I glanced at his Ink. It remained still, but its eyes glowed red. Fuck, yeah, he was pissed.
“Yes, but we needed to find out what they were doing there and you went and blew everything up.”
I strode to the doorway and into the living room. “He was fuckin’ abusing her.” My voice was harsh and low as the fury boiled. “It was three weeks. Wasn’t waiting any longer.”
The room was silent as Waleron and I faced off. No one was stupid enough to interrupt either of us. “The girl,” Waleron said. I stiffened. “Keir informed me of her condition, and we’ve decided she’ll go to a rehab center.”
“What the fuck? You decided? You and he decided?” Every muscle contracted as his words hit me. “Over my dead body.” My glare shifted from Waleron to Keir, Jedrik, Hack, and then over my shoulder to Delara. They all avoided looking directly at me. They knew. They all fuckin’ knew this was going down. There was no discussion—it had been decided without me.
“I got her out. You sat on your fuckin’ asses while she was being abused. No. You’ll have to go through me first.” I managed two strides toward the basement stairs when Waleron approached, his hand latching onto my arm.
“Kilter, let it go,” Waleron warned in a bitter tone.
“Fuck you.” I jerked my arm free.
The heat in my eyes burned as my rage pulsed.
“Kilter, man, she needs help,” Jedrik said.
My gaze swung to Jedrik sitting on the edge of the leather couch, his forearms resting on his thighs, hands clasped between them. My eyes shot to the antique vase sitting on the table behind his head and, with my ability, I smashed it into tiny fragments.
Screw control, this was exactly why I never trusted anyone. They went behind my back and did what they thought was best. No consulting. No discussion. Nothing.
She was not being locked away. Fuck that. I swore to her. I asked her to trust me, damn it.
It was betrayal laced with mistrust. She’d never forgive me. I knew what it was like to lose faith in someone’s words, and I wouldn’t do that to her. I fuckin’ wouldn’t.
I managed two more steps toward the stairs before my body froze, and not by choice. Paralysis. “Let me go, you coldhearted bastard.”
A low murmur of voices shifted through the room and I felt the energy around each of the Scars rise. Keir moved forward and nodded to Waleron. I knew they were speaking telepathically while blocking me.
“You have fuckin’ shit to say, say it,” I said.
Delara brushed by me, marched through the living room, and walked out. From her reaction, she was in disagreement with Waleron and Keir’s decision. One point in her favor.
Anstice slipped her hand in Keir’s. “Kilter, don’t do this. Listen to what they have to sa—”
“Fuck off!”
Keir’s eyes flashed and his jaw clenched as he quietly warned, “Careful.”
Waleron’s ability could only hold me for a minute, and then all hell would break loose.
“You will let her go,” Waleron stated.
I fought Waleron’s power, my eyes burning as my powers surfaced. “You lock her up, you sign her death warrant.”
“She’ll be safe there,” Keir said, slowly moving toward me. “We’d never do anything to harm her. You know that, Kilter.”
A cold fury enveloped me. No, goddamn it. No. I promised her. I fuckin’ promised.
Waleron’s tone was calm and cool. “This is not your decision.” His hold finally dropped and I flexed my hands into fists. “If she chooses to leave rehabilitation, she can. But she must give it a chance.”
“You will destroy what’s left of her.” That’s not what she needed. Not her. Not that way. “I’ll make sure she gets help.”
“No, Kilter,” Waleron said in his monotone voice. “You’re too protective of this woman already.” My eyes darted to his Ink as it shifted on his neck. “You will not have any contact with her while she recovers.”
“What? That’s fuckin’ bullshit,” I ground out.
“Disobey me and I will send you to Rest. Stay away from her,” Waleron ordered. “She needs time. Let this go. One warning. Don’t push it, Kilter.”