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“And how do you propose I fight back?”

“First you need to figure out what you’re fighting for. First you need to care about something,” Luka said.

“Then what? Step on whoever gets in my way?” she demanded, blocking the hit Luka aimed at her side.

He smiled in approval. Barely, but it was there.

Then she was on her back again, completely having missed his follow-up attack.

Prick.

“No one can steal your thunder if you are the storm,” he replied, stretching a hand toward her. “Be the fucking storm, Tessa.”

“Why are you telling me this? Aren’t you supposed to be protecting Theon?”

He yanked her to her feet as he said, “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

39

THEON

“Right this way,” the hostess said with a bow of her head.

Theon followed her through the lounge, his hand pressed to the small of Tessa’s back. The dress she was wearing was such a dark shade of blue it appeared black in the lighting, and it was backless, leaving his palm pressed to bare skin.

Bare skin that had distracted him all godsdamn day as he’d remembered what it was like to have her beneath him. To feel that flesh pebbled with goosebumps. To feel her pulse beneath his fingertips.

But it wasn’t happening again. Not until she finally admitted what he already knew, and he hated himself for drawing that line.

He knew she was tired. She’d been tired after training with Luka for nearly three hours. Luka refused to tell him about their training sessions, only reporting what they worked on and how she was improving. He never told Theon anything she said, and it made Theon agitated not knowing. But they were all getting anxious. The Source Bond was supposed to be firmly in place by this point. Tessa was supposed to be an asset by now, helping them form alliances and intimidate those who weren’t.

She’d asked what he spent his time doing while she trained. He’d deflected because she would only ask more questions if she learned he was spending time in the Pantheon archives combing through ancient texts. He was trying to figure out so many things at this point, he didn’t know which direction to go in. Her power. Their defective Source bond. Who was trying to take her. But not only that, the texts at the Pantheon could shed light on the female in the mirror from a few years ago, or his theories on the Revelation Decree if he just knew where to look.

Which he didn’t.

And when he was there, the bond only pulled at him to get back to her, somehow sensing her discomfort. The Legacy could control how much of the bond their Fae felt. For weeks, he’d simply let the bond bombard her, thinking that would push her into accepting it sooner, faster. Lately he’d gone in the complete opposite direction, hoping if she didn’t feel him, didn’t feel the bond, she’d crave it.

And maybe she had. She’d let him touch her twice in only a few days. Maybe he’d been playing this wrong the entire time. It shouldn’t surprise him. Everything had been different with her from the start.

The hostess opened a large polished wood door to a private lounge, stepping aside to let them pass. Tessa was already sliding imperceptibly closer to him, and he paused when he found not only Dagian but Lealla as well. Wasn’t this an interesting turn of events? The Achaz and Serafina heirs.

“Lealla,” he greeted, not missing the way her Source sneered at Tessa. “What an unexpected pleasure.”

Her lips tipped in a cold grin. “Theon, there’s no one else here. No need for theatrics.”

“What theatrics?” he asked, Luka and Axel taking seats before him and Tessa. He saw Lealla glance at them, momentarily startled at the lack of decorum.

With a cold smirk of his own, Theon pulled a chair out as he said, “Have a seat, beautiful.”

Tessa didn’t hesitate, playing her part perfectly, before Theon took a seat next to her. Luka had already ordered them glasses of whiskey, and Tessa passed him a glass before sipping from her own.

“I believe these are the theatrics Lealla was referencing,” Dagian said. That fucker hadn’t even bothered standing when they’d entered the room. His Source stood obediently at his side, waiting for instruction. She was a mirror of Eviana.

“Dagian,” Theon said tightly. “Hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“It’s fine. I’m sure you’re used to taking your time seeing as how Arius Kingdom is always last to be addressed. Besides, I know you prefer to make an entrance with your entourage. All those…theatrics,” he said over the top of his liquor glass.

“I’d hardly call my brother and advisor an entourage,” Theon said in a bored tone, settling back in his seat and ignoring the verbal jab at his kingdom.