Rubble

Lake

“~Extractions~?” I yell.

Sylas edges away from me, clearly unnerved by my rage.

Oliver eyes me impassively. As a Celestial, she’s forbidden from interfering with the actions of mortals. She can help me as much as she wants to, but can’t impede my actions.

“Lake, before you maul me, please let me explain.” Sylas throws his hands up in surrender, his eyes pleading.

“You helped extract wolves from innocent people!” I growl. “What else is there to explain?! I told you the minute I couldn’t trust you, that I’d—”

“Rip my throat out, I know!” Sylas finishes my sentence, which doesn’t help his case in the slightest. “The people who were originally tested were willing to go through it for their alpha. And being undercover, I couldn’t interrupt!”

“But you gave them your blood?” I spat. “How could you?”

“No, no!” Sylas protested. “Evin didn’t use my blood. He used the kidnapped vampyres, and by then they were dead. It made me sick to my stomach, but I couldn’t do anything to stop it.”

“Lake, sweetheart.” Oliver puts her hand over mine. “You know that no one can lie here. Sylas is telling the truth.”

“But he—”

“Couldn’t do anything more without risking his own life.” Oliver smiles sadly. “The extracted wolves are lost to this world. We can grieve on their behalf, but we cannot tarnish their memory with more bloodshed.”

I look to Sylas, who is still in his defensive stance. I want to believe him—but can I?

“I’m still not entirely convinced,” I tell him, slumping back against the window. “But you’re safe from me for now.”

Sylas visibly relaxes, letting out a deep breath.

“But we need to get Derrick back,” I say, trying to calm my own anxieties. “Whatever they did to him...my mate would never attack me like he did that night.”

I look at the bowl of fruit and rub my mark with the crystal in my hand. The crystal is cold to the touch, meaning Derrick is asleep or knocked out cold.

“We will, but that won’t be an easy task,” Sylas says grimly. “Your grandfather is planning something, and the testing is only a small part of it. And I don’t think he’s working alone.

“If we rush in without knowing more, then your mate will be in even more danger. They only want him to lure you there.”

“But what do they want with me?”

Sylas shrugs. “I’m not entirely sure, but it has something to do with the fact that you’re a hybrid.”

I turn to Oliver. “Have you seen anything?”

She shakes her head. “They’re working behind the scenes. I may be a Celestial, but being stuck like this for so long has limited my powers.”

I click my tongue in frustration. '

~Who would be smart and strong enough to construct this plan?~

***

A few hours later, Sylas and I are standing at the border of Oliver’s realm. There’s only a limited time we can stay here before we begin to lose ourselves, like Benjamin and the other poor souls in this place.

“My child, please be careful,” Oliver hugs me tightly. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to help you the next time you’re running.”

I smile and hug her back. “Even if it’s just communication, it will be enough.”

Sylas shakes Oliver’s hand. “Thank you again for the clothes.”

I eye the outfit she materialized for him. The tank top reveals his leanly muscled biceps, and the dark jeans are just tight enough to be distracting. I avert my gaze, my cheeks flushing slightly.

“Please take care of her for me,” Oliver says. “She may be a handful, but I promise she’s worth it.”

“I will,” Sylas promises.

In a flash, we land back in the mortal realm. The abandoned road glows in the sun rising overhead. Glancing around, I realize I know this place.

Why would Oliver send us ~here~?

“Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” Sylas jokes.

I roll my eyes and sling my backpack over my shoulders. “I know where we are,” I say, walking away.

Sylas hurries to catch up to me. Our footsteps sync together as we make our way through the forest.

“I’ve heard wolves remember the scents of places they’ve been,” he remarks. “Is that true?”

“You’re like a curious two-year-old asking if the sky is blue.” I roll my eyes. “But yes, it’s true.”

Sylas chuckles at my words. “Is that why you remember this place?”

“Um, not exactly.” I clear my throat. “I guess you could say that I grew up around here.”

Sylas says, “Oh,” silently to himself. I guess he picked up on the fact that I don’t want to talk about it.

After another two miles of walking, we come to a familiar clearing. I sigh heavily at the burned remains of what was once my parents' house. “Looks like nothing’s changed.”

It’s true—every piece of wood, brick, and broken shard of glass looks untouched.

After the Lucas incident, the pack I was born into deserted this territory. Without an alpha to lead and protect them, fear of me drove everyone out of the area.

Even humans that didn’t know of werewolves blocked the roads into this territory, thanks to the influence of the elders inside the political offices of the government. I believe they blamed a nuclear waste exposure.

Sylas follows me as I walk through the remains of my childhood. The skeleton of the house is full of burned furniture and soot. Any pictures or memories I could salvage were destroyed by Lucas’s father before he left.

Apparently his father was also affected by the curse. He went mad and eventually shot himself after shooting his mate.

“This is…” Sylas trails off.

“Yes. My childhood home,” I answer. “What’s left of it, anyway.”

Sylas just stands in the doorway of what used to be the kitchen. So many mornings spent here with Riley and Landon, with my mother cooking breakfast for us. I can still taste her famous pancakes.

“Long story short, I was an Alignment. It’s basically a priest for werewolves.” I shrug. “I didn’t do what the Moon Goddess wanted, and this...is the result.”

“I was cursed by a witch, turned rogue, and killed my brother. The whole nine yards.” I take a step closer. A piece of glass breaks under my shoe.

“My best friend starved herself after the loss of my brother—her mate. My father tried to bludgeon me with an axe. And my mother slit her wrists right in front of me.”

“Oh! And Derrick had to kill my father, because I was in too much shock to react when he came after me.”

Sylas just stands there, staring at me, as I nonchalantly tell him these things. Having a light attitude about it has helped me come to terms with what happened.

“Lake, I’m so sorry,” he manages to say.

“It’s all water under the bridge,” I say, though it’s an effort to keep my voice steady. “The three main culprits are dead, but the fourth escaped. I’ve been searching for her since, but a witch of her caliber is hard to find.”

“Kjarni.” Sylas moves swiftly, drawing me into a hug. His muscular arms remind me so much of Derrick’s that I almost forget it’s not him.

“Sylas.” I push on his chest slightly. “You’re hugging me.”

His lavender and vanilla scent is filling my lungs again. I didn’t notice it before, but my throat has been stinging since returning to the mortal realm.

“I know. Please let me,” Sylas whispers. “Just this once. I won’t do it again without your permission.”

My fangs extend behind my cheeks at the feel of his heartbeat against my skin. My head is right at his neck.

“Sylas. You’re too close,” I mutter.

He only holds me tighter.

“If you need to, then do it.” His words are gentle against my ear before he puts his wrist to my mouth.

“I don’t—”

“Do I have to cut it again?”

I sigh heavily and hesitantly wrap my mouth around his wrist. My fangs prick his vein, and the blood flows down my throat with ease.

Every drop is as delicious as the first time.

“I’ll do anything I have to in order to keep you alive, Kjarni.” Sylas leans his forehead against mine as I close my eyes, reveling in the taste of him. “My life is yours.”