Page 78 of Seared Fates

“What’s happening?” Golden insists. “What’s going on?”

“Just let him look, beautiful,” Lucero replies, voice tight.

Vidar’s face hardens, and he pulls back. “Sen!”

Hand on Vidar’s shoulder, Sen pushes him away and peers down at me. Gone is his charm and bite; his expression is serious with a wrinkle between his brow.

“Damn,” Sen utters, pulling back.

“Someone tell me what’s happening!” Golden demands, grabbing hold of my hand from where he kneels alert on the mattress.

Ramy slips off the bed to join Vidar and the other offspring. Their spines rod straight as if they’re about to head into battle.

“It’s gone,” Vidar growls, panicked. Hands flexing.

“Are you sure?” Rurik bites out. “Did that asshole really take it?”

“We’ll need a mage to confirm, but he’s right,” Sen answers.

My stomach begins to sink. My eyes flicking to everyone before landing on Vidar, needing his comfort. His reassurance.

Ramy pulls Vidar's bicep, forcing his Maker to look at him. “There has to be something we can do!”

“Call Summer,” Vidar orders, his stare not once leaving mine.

Ramy nods and hurries to the door, out of sight before it even swings shut.

“We won’t have much time,” Lucero says.

“Like I needed to be reminded of that, offspring,” Vidar growls.

“What's happening?” I ask, voice trembling and squeezing Golden’s hand until I must hurt him.

Vidar sucks in a breath between clamped teeth. He hesitates, only for a second, long enough to know the news he’s about to tell me isn’t good. “Only death can cut a soulmate bond, love.”

That sinking feeling plummets.

“He’s dying?” Golden cries.

“Not dying, beautiful,” Lucero tells his mate, reaching for him.

“Not yet, that is,” Sen adds.

Vidar gets in Sen’s face and growls. “Watch your mouth.”

Sen doesn’t back down. “The boy needs to know, it’s his life after all.”

Panic grips my lungs, making it difficult to suck in a breath. “I’m dying?”

“No!” Vidar snaps, then moves back to me, his body a shield against the world. “No.” The repeated word lands with the weight of a mountain.

“T-then what’s happening!” I reach for the braids over my scarred left side and tug. And tug again and again and again.

Vidar stays silent, breathing through his nose and gaze unblinking. Mouth a thin, angry line.

“Vidar!” I beg.

“Emma ripped your soul out,” he says slowly, like he has to control himself.