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“Atlas, you are being too harsh on her.” Darius suddenly loses his steam as he finds himself between his nest-mates.

The pale blue gargoyle’s jaw tenses and flexes, again and again, as he grinds his teeth. He can’t even tell which side is the right one now.

“I’m sorry it hurts you, but this belongs to me now,” I say, trying to sound confident. My hands tremble as I hold the box so tightly my knuckles go white, and my fingers won’t loosen, even when I try to force them.

“I’m done, with all of you.” Atlas’ voice is devoid of emotion, and his cool gray eyes go from looking at me to piercing right through.

He walks out of the art room, and I can hear his footsteps get farther and farther away.

“What the hell just happened?” I ask in a whisper, looking between the three remaining gargoyles who are frozen. “Whatthe fuck just happened?” The pitch of my voice rises, and goose bumps break out all over my skin.

I flex my fingers and finally pull them free of the box as I set it in my lap. The weight of its importance fills me with excitement and dread that sinks into my stomach like lead.

“You look pale. Sit down by the fire, and I’ll make some tea,” Dara says as soon as she sees me standing on their doorstep.

I didn’t know where else to go. After Atlas stormed out, the rest of them dispersed, first to their own rooms and then to the four winds. Probably to search for the broodiest and most insufferable gargoyle of the lot.

“Thanks,” I mutter numbly as I step inside and take a seat by the fireplace.

Eloise comes into the living room with a yawn. She’s wearing a flannel over a soft gray pajama set, and I’m jealous of the flicker of adoration in her eyes as she spots her wife. They hold each other’s gaze for a moment, having a silent conversation that all partners seem to be able to have after they’ve grown to love one another with their entire being.

I dip my head so I don’t have to watch the moment.

“Charlotte, it’s good to see you. How have your exercises been going?” Eloise asks as she takes a seat on the couch.

“Fine, I’m not any better or worse.” The words feel heavy on my tongue, but I force them out.

“Here you are,” Dara says softly, offering me a cup that I never saw her go to the kitchen to retrieve, but I take it anyway and swallow a mouthful of steaming liquid.

“One of those days,” Eloise sighs.

“You could say that.”

“Do you want to tell us about it?” Dara asks as she sits beside her wife, concern carving deep lines into her delicate features.

Eloise takes one of her wife’s hands and holds it on her lap.

“I think I broke them,” I whisper, not wanting to share the shame of what I caused with anyone.

I’m out of my depth, and there is no way I could go to Kennedy for advice like this.

“What do you mean?” Dara asks at the same time that Eloise says, “You need to speak up. We’re not that young anymore.”

“I broke them!” I snarl suddenly, the fragile thread of numbness snapping.

My body begins to shiver, and the dark tea in my mug ripples and pops, magic leaking from me like an old faucet.

“How did you break them? Gargoyles are damn near immortal beings. I’m sure they’re alright if it was just a chip,” Eloise says with a little laugh, though her expression tightens when she eyes my cup.

“It’s not funny! None of this is funny. All I’ve done is ruin their damn lives by coming here. They don’t deserve a mate like me,” I sob.

The sea of emotions in my chest quickly churns from anger and strife to sadness so all-consuming I want to let it drag me under. I set the roiling tea down on a small table and press the heels of my hands into my eyes to stop the tears from flowing.

“Atlas, he took off. They haven’t been able to find him. They looked for hours,” I croak, voice cracking with emotion.

The tea hisses and spits like a cajoling crowd.

“How long has he been gone?” Eloise asks, leaning forward and releasing Dara’s hand. She waves a finger over the tea, and it settles in the mug.