Page 1 of Shattered Galaxies (Tears of the Siren #6)

Dean

“You left…”

Lorcan’s words instantly captured my attention. Not because of what she’d said—although it did confuse me, because none of us had gone more than ten feet from her—but because of how she said it.

Two little words had never held such trepidation, fear, and guilt.

I was at Lorcan’s side in seconds flat, my chair overlooking the ocean long forgotten. Her face was pale, her seafoam green gaze dazed, and her breaths were coming in quick, uneven pants. What the fuck had happened?

Draven gestured to the window with his head. Lorcan’s gaze refocused, her hand slowly rising to rub her chest as if it physically pained her to look there. When I finally looked away from her to see for myself, a rumble broke from my throat.

You left.

“Bunny, what’s wrong? Shit .” Rhett’s voice broke off as he ran into the room, catching sight of the scrawled message. Words painted in blood across the bedroom window, backlit by moonlight.

I reined in my rage and cut off my growl, not wanting to upset Lorcan. Wanting to shield her from my fury.

Instantly, I pulled her close and she melted into me, burying her head against my chest. Only with her like this, in my arms, did I feel like she was safe from the bastard who’d done this.

There was no doubt who was responsible.

“He can’t have gone far.” Draven’s voice was filled with resolve, malice painted clear across his face.

“Agreed. This is fresh, and it sure as fuck wasn’t here when we arrived,” Cash bit out.

Hours ago. We’d arrived fucking hours ago.

Rhett joined us and stood behind Lorcan, rubbing her back.

I gently turned her into his trusted arms, a pained noise coming from her throat.

I knew exactly what I needed to do, but I wanted her at a distance.

I didn’t trust my lion right now, not with the feral protective urges banging around in my head.

“I’m shifting to track him,” Cash announced, his mind in the same place mine was, and sprinted outside to the deck.

“I don’t know how we didn’t sense him,” Desmond said quietly from a few steps into the room, his cold fury palpable. Zander paced behind him, his brow furrowed in frustration and anger.

“I don’t understand what he thinks he’s achieving,” Zander hissed. “Did he hope to find her alone?”

Adriel’s fist smashed against the wall from where he stood in the doorway. His magic was making shadows swirl on the edge of the room, and Desmond, who normally would’ve tried to counteract it, didn’t bother. He just let the nightmare magic saturate the room.

Without another word, I moved past both of them and onto the deck of our villa, shifting into my lion form. A roar broke from my throat as I propelled my body forward, instantly picking up the scent of the bastard—the blood fresh. The same blood that he had used to cover her window.

More importantly, though, it was saturated with magic. Witch magic, if I wasn’t mistaken.

Cash let out a rumble as he bounded down the stairs to the beach, and I began to run alongside him. If this bastard was still around, he would be handled immediately. If he wanted blood, I would happily paint him with it.

It took us about five minutes to trace his scent down the beach until we hit the dock. We followed the trail of blood drops to the end, where his scent disappeared. The piece of shit had escaped on a fucking boat, and a quick look around revealed no security cameras. Not a single damn one.

Shifting back, I dropped down off the dock and into the water.

Anger pulsed through my chest as I searched through the sandy bottom for anything that might give us a clue.

How had he gotten the better of us? How had he managed to write that message and just fucking leave?

This was unacceptable. I hadn’t been able to protect Lorcan from these types of sick fucks in the past, but I could now, and I wouldn’t accept that he’d escaped.

“Look at this shit,” Cash said as I pulled myself out of the water.

He was holding something—it appeared to be a charm, the clasp broken as if it had been ripped off.

The metal disc was stamped with a tree of life insignia, and it definitely held magic.

I couldn’t get a read on what type of magic it was—presumably the same type I scented in his blood—but I knew the others would be able to.

Tucking it into my pocket, I shifted again and immediately made my way back to Lorcan. It had been only fifteen minutes, but I needed to see her. Needed to make sure that some color had returned to her face.

When we hit the villa and went through the back door, I was relieved to see that they had moved Lorcan to the opposite end of the suite, in a bedroom that faced the resort.

Her brow was dipped as she smoothed a hand over Rhett’s, his voice a low hum of comfort.

I knew my brother was upset, but he was doing his best to hide it from her.

Adriel was standing protectively over her as he talked to Zander, the siren still looking conflicted and confused.

It was one of his first times experiencing Lorcan’s stalker’s tendencies, but I had no doubt he had experiences of his own.

I also had a feeling that he was trying to sort out his emotions and the protectiveness he felt toward her.

“What did you find?” Desmond asked. Draven stood as well, both of them looking equally tense and eager, and I knew it was for violence. For the hope of being able to find this fucker. I hated to disappoint them.

“A charm. Could be his or could be left from someone traveling. The blood has magic in it, but I can’t determine the type.” I walked to where Lorcan was sitting on the end of the bed and pulled her against me.

“Let me see the charm,” Zander said, taking the piece.

I figured that they had already felt the magic in the blood as well, and it was both telling and concerning that no one had pieced together who we were dealing with.

And now her stalker seemed to be playing with us, leaving pieces of himself behind as if hoping that we’d solve this fucked-up puzzle.

“Druid realm. The magic is the same as the magic in the blood,” Zander said. Adriel took a look and nodded in agreement.

“It’s the new sigil for the queen that took over only five years ago, more of a mix between God realm power and witch magic.”

“How the fuck did he find out about Lorcan, then?” I demanded.

“My face is still plastered everywhere,” she said softly, her voice raw. “All it would take is one trip to the Earth realm. He probably doesn’t even recognize his obsession. A lot of my stalkers ended up that way.”

My jaw clenched, wanting to rip out the throat of each and every one.

“Can I see the charm?” she asked.

Zander stepped forward and handed it to her, but not before a bubble of shadows and smoke went up around us. I arched a brow at Desmond and Adriel, who looked confused about why their magic was acting without direction or order. But the minute Lorcan touched the charm, I understood why.

Everything went black, the ground falling from beneath my feet as I plastered Lorcan to me. Cold wind chilled our skin as the space around us twisted violently, the scent of old blood and earth smeared against its confines. There was magic here.

Without warning, visions began to break past us in rapid motion. Colors, shapes, sounds, and smells creating a narrative.

I tried to keep track of each one as certain scenes stood out to me.

A shadowed alley filled with people as the person who the memory belonged to approached two hooded figures.

An exchange of papers being slid across a desk, the background of a massive castle highlighting the simple room.

The skyline of Los Angeles reflecting off a large window, people moving in the background.

All of it blended together, fading on the edges until the viewer came to a stop.

Right in front of him, somewhere in Los Angeles at a party, was Lorcan.

She couldn’t have been more than sixteen at the time, but the way she leaned against Cormac told me she’d been drinking—a cigarette in her hand falling out onto the carpet.

The images grew crisper. Every single image featured Lorcan or had something to do with Lorcan.

It was like the memories were being tainted by the thought of her.

I watched as blue waves passed by, our villa in the distance, the scent of blood tinting the air?—

The memories suddenly stopped, our bodies yanked violently from the vision. Lorcan groaned, falling against me as blood leaked from her nose.

“There…there isn’t anything else.”

“Fuck,” I growled as she fell unconscious, her voice faltering on the end.

Picking her up, I left the others as they fervently discussed what they’d seen—why the trail had suddenly stopped and where the bastard had gone.

None of that mattered until Lorcan was better.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I used a tissue to clean up the blood under Lorcan’s nose before smoothing my fingers through her hair.

Her golden hair had gotten longer over the past few months, and the longer she used her powers and grew stronger with them alongside our bond, the more aqua seemed to color the strands.

Yet she looked too pale. Too quiet. Like the fight had been drained out of her—and I hated that.

I continued to stare at my ethereal beauty until I realized the others had gathered around, talking quietly.

This was absolute fucking bullshit. My jaw was clenched so tight and I felt like it would shatter if I wasn’t careful.

My eyes closed as I considered the very first stalker Lorcan had—one that was no longer a problem.

Zeke. I’d known from the start that he was obsessed with her, long before her powers made an appearance.

He’d always been there, silently watching her from the background.

Always trying to take up her time and space.

Never listening to her ‘no.’ I should have realized the spiral that was happening, but I hadn’t until it was far too late.

I hadn’t fully appreciated the seriousness of the situation until she was trapped in an office with him. But someone had let him into that office—someone with power. They hadn’t protected him past that, though.

Zeke had deserved so much more than having his dick ripped off and spinal cord removed. He deserved hours—no, days—of pain. Excruciating agony.

I wouldn’t get the opportunity to slowly torture this time either, so instead this fucker would get every ounce of my fury. The minute we found him would be his last.

“What should we do?” Rhett asked.

“Find him. No matter what it takes.”