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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

THE MOMENT brENDA told me Lucy had left, the world tilted. My fingers clenched the fabric of my sweatpants, my stomach twisting into knots.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” I wanted to scream the words, but they stayed locked behind my teeth.

Brenda sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “She and Spinner had it out. It got ugly, and she took off.”

I shook my head. No, no, no. Lucy wouldn’t just leave. Not unless she felt like she had no other choice.

Brenda hesitated, then dropped the real hit. “The guys think she was involved with Fang. That she had ties to Dragon Fire.”

My stomach turned, the shock hitting like ice water down my spine. No. That’s not true. Lucy despised those men.

I shoved the blanket off, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. My body still ached—healing but weak—but right now, I didn’t care. I had to find Lucy. I had to make them see.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Brenda murmured, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. “You’re not strong enough to—”

The door opened, and Mystic walked in. The second I saw him, the words I’d been holding back tore free.

“Kulüp Lucy hakkinda yaniliyor!” The club was wrong about Lucy. I knew it in my bones.

The sound startled even me—rough and broken, more breath than voice—but it was there .

Mystic froze. His eyes locked onto mine, shock flickering across his face.

“She didn’t do it!” I rasped, my throat burning, lungs fighting to keep up. God, it hurt. But I couldn’t stop now.

I pushed against Brenda’s grip, trying to stand. Mystic was there in an instant, kneeling in front of me, his hands wrapping around mine. Steady. Grounding.

“Zeynep—”

“I need to see Spinner,” I whispered, my breath hitching, panic tightening in my chest. “He needs to know. She didn’t do this. She wouldn’t.”

Mystic’s grip tightened. The shock in his eyes shifted into something deeper—protective, unshakable. “Zeynep, you need to slow down. Your voice—”

“I don’t care,” I choked out, shaking my head. Why won’t they listen? Why won’t they believe her?

Mystic’s jaw flexed. He studied me in silence, then exhaled through his nose. “Alright.”

I blinked. My breath hitched. “Alright?”

He nodded. “You want to talk to Spinner? Then we’ll talk to Spinner.”

Tears burned my eyes. He believed me. He wasn’t fighting me.

Mystic squeezed my hands, firm but gentle. “But you let me do the talking first. You push too hard, you’ll tear your voice up worse. Deal?”

I swallowed hard, wincing against the pain, and nodded.

“Good,” he murmured. His thumb brushed over my knuckles, just enough to pull me back from the shadows in my mind. “Let’s go set this shit straight.”