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Chapter Twenty-Six

ISADORA

Selene rose from her chair in a fluid motion, her gossamer robe brushing against the black stone floor as it unfurled around her ankles. She touched her fingers briefly to the tarot cards, almost like she was showing them affection, before stepping away from the table toward me.

Lucien shifted his weight beside me as Selene’s orbit began to close in around me. His fingers twitched at his sides, like he was fighting off the urge to wrench me out of reach.

So, he trusted her when it came to exorcising toilet demons, but not when it came to me.

“It’s all right,” I whispered as Selene came to a stop directly in front of me. Her silver eyes fixed on mine, unblinking. Then they dipped, traveling over the entire length of my body, even as I sat in the chair—like she was searching for something invisible.

She raised her hand.

Lucien stepped forward, his voice quiet but firm. “What are you doing?”

Selene didn’t so much as spare him a glance. “You came here for answers. I’m trying to find them.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he said.

“Lucien, please,” I said softly, touching his hand. “Let her do what she needs to do.”

With a small smile, she closed her eyes and brought her hands together, fingers poised delicately in front of her like she was holding an unseen thread. Then she slowly exhaled, and with the release of that breath, a shimmer passed through the room.

After a moment, she opened her eyes, and they shone with pure, undiluted magic. I stared into her glowing silver orbs and saw a universe staring back.

“There it is,” she murmured. “Your aura.”

I couldn’t help but glance down at myself, but nothing seemed different to me. Guess vampires weren’t privy to a witch’s magic.

“Why do you need to see my aura?” I asked.

Selene reached out and touched something invisible—and everything inside me recoiled. Pressure burned beneath my skin like an aftershock. I gasped and jolted back in my chair, hand flying to my ribs even though nothing had touched me.

“What was that ?” I demanded.

“My apologies,” she said by way of explanation.

Without another word, she returned to her seat, composing herself once more with one leg tucked beneath her rear. Then she locked her gaze with mine.

“The spell used on Thorne would leave a magical imprint. Your assumption was correct in that regard. However, without her here, without laying hands on her, I can’t track it.” She paused. “What I do have…is the next closest tether.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. And what did this have to do with my aura? And why had it hurt when she’d touched mine?

“Few in this world truly understand how a mating bond works. As witches, we have a more intrinsic knowledge of it, simply because we can see auras.”

I frowned but didn’t interrupt her.

“They are well and truly eternal,” she continued. “Even if someone were to, say, break the bond”—she tipped her head toward me—“it wouldn’t truly sever it. The only way to accomplish that, sadly, is death.”

My breath caught as her implication dawned in my head. “Are you saying?—”

“This is why mating bonds require a great deal of thought beforehand. Once you tie yourself to someone in that way, there truly is no escape.”

“So, I’m still connected to him,” I whispered, horror skating down my spine.

“Very much so,” Selene said. “You’ve badly damaged the bond. I can see the impact the separation has had. It’s why you felt pain a few moments ago when I touched it. You’ve damaged the energy that surrounds and protects you. It leaves you exposed to the universe.”

“Exposed how?” I whispered.

“It affects the psyche. The more broken the bond, the more fractured the mind becomes. If left unchecked, it can manifest as radical changes in behavior, sudden mood swings, poor decision-making, impulsive decisions. And in the worst-case scenarios, obsessive behavior, rage, even bouts of madness.”

“Hardly seems fair,” I muttered. “ He screws up—quite literally—and I get the psychiatric fallout?”

Selene lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “No one has ever accused the universe of being fair.”

“Well, that answers a few questions,” Lucien said.

“Huh?” I glanced at him. “What questions?”

Ricky’s chuckle drew my attention to him.

I’d almost forgotten he was here. Who knew a Wolfe could be so quiet.

“Where do we start? How about leaving your cushy New Orleans home and two centuries of stability all because you saw a Craigslist ad for a haunted bar? Or how you bought it sight-unseen? Or partnered with my sister the first day you met her? Or how about getting involved with Lord Fang over here? Do those not seem like poor or impulsive decisions to you?”

Lucien turned to stone, his expression blanking.

I gripped his hand before his mood turned feral and he did something he regretted.

“Actually,” Selene interjected, “I believe Lucien is the one good choice she’s made since arriving here.

” She placed her arms on the table and leaned forward.

“You two possess one of the strongest bonds I’ve ever seen.

His aura is actively trying to repair yours, even as we speak.

I’ve only seen this once or twice before. Between true mates.”

My heart stopped dead in my chest, and my hand tightened around Lucien’s. All I could scrape out was a “…what?”

Selene smiled. “How to explain this so you understand…” She tapped her mouth, then pointed up a finger like she’d just had an aha moment.

“There are mating bonds. And then there are true mates. Any couple can perform the ritual to join themselves with a mating bond. But true mates are rare. Their connection isn’t manufactured—it’s written in the blood, in the stars.

It’s soul deep. Their magic instinctively responds to one another.

All fated couples are mated. But not all mated couples are fated. ”

This felt like a grade school math problem. But I think I understood.

She glanced at Lucien. “I’m sure the two of you felt something when you met. This kismet energy pushing you together. That sense of inevitability and need to protect one another. I know I saw it earlier after I banished that demon. I insulted you and Isadora immediately rose to your defense.”

Lucien went absolutely rigid next to me. He didn’t say a word, but his body language spoke volumes.

Selene turned back to me. “His aura is the only thing keeping yours from unraveling completely.”

I stared at them both, utterly baffled. How had I lived for two hundred years and never heard any of this? I knew the answer—I’d never hung around with witches before. But it still blew my mind.

Finally, Lucien cleared his throat. “Well. That explains why you haven’t threatened my life—or my bouncers’ lives—in a few days.”

I arched a brow. “Are you suggesting you make me sane ?”

“I’m not suggesting anything,” he deadpanned. “She is.”

Selene gave a sage nod. “His presence is currently anchoring yours. The madness that might have taken hold—rage, obsession, grief—hasn’t because of him. Because your true mate is shielding you from it. Even if neither of you realized it.”

Understanding had me covering my mouth with my other hand. “But Trystan?—”

“Has no shield,” Selene finished.

The room fell silent. Even Ricky, who’d been lounging against a bookshelf, straightened.

“He’s spiraling,” Selene went on. “And unfortunately, the madness will grow until it consumes him completely.”

My stomach twisted. “Then how do we stop it? How do we fix him?”

Selene didn’t hesitate. “We don’t.”

The finality of her tone sucked all the air from my lungs.

As though sensing my distress, she gave a slow nod. “There is no healing this, Isadora,” she said. “The only thing that ends this is death. His or yours.”

Lucien unleashed a savage growl.

I squeezed his hand, then looked up at him before glancing at Ricky. Neither argued with her. No one said that there had to be another way. Everyone simply looked…resigned to this.

“He cheated on me,” I said, as if saying it out loud might help. “He destroyed my family, our relationship, everything. He dragged my parents into this mess, bankrupting them. And he did all that before I broke the bond.”

Still, no one spoke.

“Don’t get me wrong, I hate him for all that he’s done.

But none of that— none of it —justifies killing him.

” I sucked in a trembling breath. “But Thorne… What he did to her…” My voice wavered.

“I want to eviscerate him. Except, it’s all my fault.

” Tears welled in my eyes. “I’m the one who broke the bond and set all this in motion.

I’m the one who came here and befriended Thorne.

If it weren’t for me, he never would have known about her and certainly wouldn’t have hurt her. ”

I stared at Lucien, my vision blurred with tears. “I did this.”

He crouched next to me, pulling me into his arms. “This isn’t your fault. You didn’t know.”

“That hardly excuses it,” I said. “Thorne nearly died tonight because of my actions.”

Lucien said nothing. He simply tightened his arms around me, fiercely protective. Like maybe he could squeeze the guilt out of me. But he couldn’t. No one could.

After a long moment, I exhaled and pulled back. As much as I wanted to stay buried in his comfort, there were far more important discussions to be had.

I wiped my eyes. “How long does he have?”

“I can’t answer that,” Selene said. “Madness doesn’t follow a timeline. But based on what he did to Thorne? I’d say we’re out of time.”

My chest tightened until breathing felt impossible. For a century, Trystan had been a part of my life. It hadn’t always been great, but it was hard to give up on him.

“And you’re sure there’s no other way?” I whispered. “What about locking him away in a facility?”

“What facility could hold him?” Selene asked kindly. “I know this is hard, but Trystan has become a danger to anyone around him—human and paranormal alike. We have to ask ourselves, which is kinder? Imprisoning him to an eternity of madness, or freeing him?”

Gods, I hated this. But I saw the truth in Selene’s words. One of us had to die to free the other. There was no softening that truth.

“Do you know where he is?” Lucien asked.

Selene shook her head. “No, not precisely. But I can cast a spell that’ll illuminate whatever remains of the connection between Trystan and Isadora. And you can follow that trail right to him.”

“Good,” Lucien said.

“That means I’m going,” I said.

Lucien’s head whipped toward me. “Absolutely not.”

“You don’t get to make that decision.”

“You’re not thinking clearly?—”

“I’m thinking perfectly clear,” I snapped. “This is my mess, Lucien. He was my mate for a hundred years. Don’t you think I owe it to him to be there? To be the one who puts him out of his misery? Would you not want the same consideration if your roles were reversed?”

Lucien grumbled under his breath, then raked a hand down his face. After a moment, he growled, “ Fine .”

Selene rose from her seat again, already moving toward a tall armoire in the corner of the room. “Then let’s not waste any more time,” she said. “The sooner we end this, the safer it’ll be for everyone in Eternity Falls. I’ll need three drops of your blood, Isadora.”

Selene opened the armoire with the creak of old hinges, revealing shelves lined with neatly labeled glass vials, bundles of dried herbs, and a black velvet roll filled with gods only knew what.

Her fingers skimmed a shelf until she found what she was looking for: a gleaming, slender blade no bigger than a knitting needle.

She returned to my side and extended her hand, waiting for me to give her mine.

I did.

“This shouldn’t hurt.”

She cradled my hand in hers, then guided the tip of the blade to my index finger. One quick prick, and a bead of crimson welled. She didn’t waste a drop—her other hand already holding the vial, into which she let the blood drip in. One. Two. Three.

Releasing my hand, she turned back toward the armoire and retrieved whatever ingredients she needed. She added each into a bowl and carefully stirred. Then, with a flicker of fingers, a violet flame erupted from within.

Lucien leaned forward, his gaze studying the contents. “This will show us where he is?”

“No. This will illuminate their bond. And their bond will show you where he is. Now, shush.”

Selene waved her hand, and the flame flared blue, then white-hot, then collapsed inward, vanishing entirely, until all that remained was what looked like a ball of char.

A second later it cracked open, and a single strand of light appeared, spider-thin and glowing faintly red, stretching out from the bowl.

It hovered mid-air, then circled around me before snaking toward the door like it had a mind of its own.

“That is all that remains of your bond,” she said. “Follow it, and you’ll find him.”

The thread pulsed once, as though impatient.

Lucien and I shared a glance until finally I nodded.

This was our only option. Trystan would continue to hurt people, lost to his madness. Selene was right. It would be a kindness to put him out of his misery. I just wish it hadn’t come to this.

But now that it had, I wouldn’t fail him. Not like how he’d failed me.