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He forced himself to stand in one spot. Forced himself to breathe. He slipped his wrist out of Shay’s grasp, but instead of pulling away like she expected him to—he could see it in her face, no matter how hard she tried to hide it—he laced his fingers with hers. Her aura warmed in response, and he felt her studying him out of the corner of her eye before she cleared her throat and turned her attention to Atlas.

Tanner said, “It’s probably unrealistic to think they’ll call right away. Give them a minute?—”

Someone’s phone started buzzing. It was Darien’s.

The room got quiet enough that Roman swore no one was even breathing.

Darien took his phone out of his back pocket and checked the caller identification.

“Who is it?” Roman gritted out.

Darien merely answered the call with a swipe of his thumb, placed the device flat on the table on speakerphone, and said, “Cassel.”

A burst of static rattled the speakers. And then: “Darien, it’s Travis.”

Fuck.

Roman’s throat clamped shut. Hearing his brother’s voice again—hearing how upset he was—was a kick to the fucking nuts.

Darien’s eyes shuttered—the only sign of the storm of stress Roman could sense stirring inside him.

When Paxton’s gaze found Roman’s in the room full of people, and he saw the concern shining in the boy’s eyes, Roman forced himself to snap the hell out of it. To put on a brave face for his brother and mouth, “It’s okay.”

But Pax was pale, and his heart was racing so fast, Roman could hear it from over here.

When Darien opened his eyes, every last trace of defeat was gone. What took its place was determination—fierce and unwavering. “Travis, where are you?” he demanded.

This time, it was Travis’s ragged inhale, not the static, that scraped down the line. “I’m in Yveswich. I didn’t make it out on time.”

Guilt slammed into Roman with the force of a semi. He’d failed to help Travis when he’d had the chance, and now…

Dean must have sensed how he was feeling, because he looked his way, his gaze heavy with empathy.

Travis continued, “We tried, but we were too late and the boat tipped over. We wrecked our phones in the ocean.” A heavy pause. A splintered inhale. And then: “I’m so fucking sorry, Darien?—”

“Who’s with you?” Darien asked.

Travis took a moment to compose himself before replying. “Max, Jewels, Dallas, Aspen, Malakai, Dominic, Blue. We’ve also got Maya and Magenta with us.” Roman noticed when Loren stiffened at Travis’s mention of Dallas.

Dallas was alive—they had confirmation of that now. Alive...but not safe.

They all stood to lose someone. Someone important.

Ivy stepped between Jack and Kylar, getting as close to the phone as she could, and said, “Travis, where,exactly,are you?”

“The House of Violet.” At that, Tanner started typing on his laptop, keys clacking.

With his hand still clasping Shay’s, Roman quietly walked over to stand behind Atlas, Dean stepping aside to give him room. On Tanner’s browser was a map of Yveswich.

“We were at the Black Market last night and almost got killed,” Travis went on. “Long story short, Raina and Silas Cruso and Charlotte Demeure found us and basically saved our asses. This is Raina’s phone I’m calling you on.”

Darien said, “All right, how’s it looking there? What’s the visibility like?”

“It’s getting worse,” Travis admitted, his voice husky. “It’s easier to see closer to the coast, but the shadow is spreading farther inland.”

“Can you still see the Control Tower?” Tanner asked. His eyes were fixed on his screen—on the navigation arrow he was dragging across the map. To the Control Tower.

Roman shared a glance with Shay.