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A frisson of fear skates down Grayson’s spine.

“Sir, we mustn’t forget the Adept was very strong. No doubt he’s hiding them. Our attempts to draw Rhodes out—”

“Stop. Saying. His. Name,” Carnell growls at the human and slams his fist on the top of the glass table. It’s followed by a crack as the glass shattersand the tea service crashes through the frame to the patio stones below.

The hair on the back of Grayson’s neck stands up as Withers subtly draws on The Plain, anticipating an attack. Where Nimue’s connection had appeared orange and alive, Withers’s is an oily brownish-black, carrying that same rancid odor of decay on the humid breeze.

How Carnell hadn’t gagged on his raisin scone is beyond him.

“My apologies, sir.” Withers bows again but doesn’t let his magic go. “Perhaps we could play our last cards?”

Carnell smiles, his brand of polluted slime oozing from every pore enough to make Grayson flinch in disgust. Standing, he stretches his arms over his head, the picture of nonchalance easily replacing his earlier fit of psychotic temper.

“Indeed. Let’s apply some pressure on both ends, then. Can you locate this Adept?”

“For sure. His signature was bold—beautiful even. It’ll be easy any time he uses it.”

There’s a hard pull in his chest—his bond with Nix reacting to the words—and Grayson has all of ten seconds to realize that Withers is talking about tracking him through his access to The Plain.

Grayson lets the magic he’s been unwittingly pulling for defense stutter as he takes a defensive step back in the flower bed, and falls.

Instead of hitting the cool earth, it’s as if he’s falling backward through his mind, yanked along invisible threads, following his bonds until—

He slams back into his body with a violent jerk.

When his eyes snap open, it’s to see his pack surrounding him in the nest, Nix’s face wet with tears.

“He’s back. Thank you, Nimue. Yes…I’ll have him call you later. Bye.” Finn sounds strained as he hangs up the phone, before promptly punching Grayson in the arm.

“What the fuck, Finn?”

The punch is immediately followed by Finn flopping backward into the nest like his strings have been cut.

With a small cry, Nix throws himself intoGrayson’s arms.

“Gray. Fuck, pretty. Are you alright?” Gideon runs a cool hand through Grayson’s hair as if reassuring himself that Grayson is real and solid.

“Where were you, Gray?” Rowan asks, his face pale.

“I wasn’t here?”

His question is met with a flurry of shaking heads.

“You were…sort of. Let me start from the beginning, yeah?” Jay offers with a small smile, pulling a pale Leo into his arms.

“I’m okay, Leo. Honestly.”

“Yeah, well, don’t do that again.”

He huffs. “I didn’t do it now.” Not on purpose, anyway.

“Yeah, well. Nix woke up suddenly like he’d had a bad dream.” Jay nods at their omega, who has his hands tucked under Grayson’s shirt. He presses closer, their babies resting against Grayson’s belly, his snotty nose buried in Grayson’s scent gland. The burnt vanilla scent making Grayson’s nose tingle.

“I think I have them when you have them, Gray.”

“I’m sorry. I think when I sleep, I can’t control the flow…They’re not all scary, though?”

Nix shudders. “Yeah, well, this was definitely scary. Carnell was in a tiny swimsuit.”