Chapter 33: Chapter Thirty-Three

Ethan

“So things seem to be progressing nicely.” Alex smirked over his morning coffee.

Ignoring him, I rolled my eyes and continued reading the paper.

I was just about to put it down and grab my keys so that I could finish what I needed to do for the day and find an excuse to stop at the bookstore, when pain sliced through my chest.

My knees buckled as I reached for the table to steady myself.

“Ethan?” Alex was immediately by my side.

My blood boiled, turning to acid beneath my skin as the room started to spin. “Something's wrong.”

“Sit down.”

I pushed him away.

Mason was soon at my other side.

The door to the house opened, and Stephanie appeared right in front of us. “Ethan, I tried to—”

Our eyes met.

Hers were white.

“What. Have. You. Done,” I roared, the heat in my blood searing every rational thought in my body.

Stephanie held up her hands and took a step back. “Nothing. I did nothing. I woke up, and she was gone!”

Alex cursed. “Cassius.”

“No,” I repeated. “It isn’t Cassius.”

I would feel Cassius—I’d felt him before when he’d taken one of my mates, knew the way it felt when my blood turned to ice in my veins.

“Stephanie?” Alex’s eyes narrowed. “Your neck.”

Growling, I pushed away from both men and slammed her against the granite countertop, tilting her neck to the side so severely I was surprised her head hadn’t come off.

“No.” Hands shaking, I stepped away. “No.”

Stephanie rubbed her neck; tears streamed down her face. “What? What’s happening?”

Her eyes were still white.

“Did you see… it?”

“See what?” She was nearing hysterics. “Something knocked me out, and when I woke up, she was gone!”

“The archangel,” I said in a hushed tone. “You wear his mark.”

Stephanie’s horrified gaze met mine as she started vigorously rubbing the spot I’d just discovered. It was small, white, and had the appearance of a snowflake tattoo.

It would have been beautiful if it hadn’t been a mark of death.

“No,” she hugged her arms to herself. “I’m so sorry. I thought we were safe. We should have been safe.”

“Can you track her?” Mason growled next to me, his body trembling with the need to change and tear something limb from limb.

“Yes,” I said in a voice I didn’t recognize. “But it may be too late. I’m strong enough to fight him, to distract him, not strong enough to defeat him alone.”

The room fell silent.

Pride kept me from saying his name.

But my love for her trumped everything.

So in that moment at my kitchen table, I closed my eyes and uttered a plea— to my greatest enemy.

“Cassius,” I whispered, “help.”