Page 47

Chapter 47

AESON

A GROAN SPILLS OUT OF me, and I roll onto my side, disoriented and sore. I’m on the floor.

Why the fuck am I on the floor?

Ash floats in the air above me, and it takes me a second to figure out where I am. Then it hits me like a fist through my chest…Ever…the Fae Gate!

I sit up with a pained growl, feeling like I just went ten rounds with the entirety of The Horde, but I shove all thoughts of my battered body aside.

“Ever?” I shout, and I hear a moan come from underneath what looks like a chunk of fallen roof.

I scramble over to the debris and find Karis and Tove lying next to it. They’re already stirring. Frantically, I scan the room for the rest of my Wing, and relief rushes me. Everyone is here, they’re okay and coming to.

Everyone except her.

I stumble over to the Matron’s dead body and try to figure out what the fuck just happened.

Ever killed her.

In cold blood, she just…

Horror overcomes me and I sprint to the shattered window that looks out at the Fae Gate. I huff out a soul-deep sigh of relief. The Gate’s not down. No alarms are blaring through the base camp, and the same wards that were churning in place before appear to be intact. The question is, for how long though?

“I need security status on the gate,” I bark, looking over to Ogdan. He’s just sitting up and I hurry to help him to his feet.

“Stable,” he grunts while rubbing the back of his head. “Contingencies state that an outcome like this should only weaken protections but not dismantle them altogether, but we’ll need to shore everything up until we have a fix in place. We need to get another Relacour Blood Crafter up here, and we need to get one now.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, my head already throbbing. “Contact my father, tell him what’s happened. Have him send Lorn up here with a new Blood Crafter,” I tell Ogdan, and he nods. “Anyone have eyes on the Syphon?” I call out.

“I think she’s gone,” Sondar rasps as he approaches. “I’m splicing the security feeds now. Give me a sec. There’s no sound and they’re glitchy from the explosion, but it’s the best we’ve got.”

“That fucking bitch,” Tove groans as Herm helps her off the ground. “She just killed a fucking Matron. The Relacour covens are going to lose their shit. How are we going to explain this shit?”

My heart hammers in my chest, and my thoughts are troubled and angry. Why the fuck would Ever do this? She said she wanted to break her curse, but how is she going to do that by killing the Matron? I’m obviously missing something here, but I have no idea what.

“Got her,” Sondar announces as he rushes over, pressing buttons on his com until he’s transferred the security feed to mine.

My shoulder twinges with pain when I lift my arm to watch the playback. I ignore the ache and grit my teeth as I witness, for the second time, my mate stabbing and slitting the throat of the Relacour Matron. I speed the feed along until she pulls her daggers out of the body and wipes them clean, which is the last thing I recall her doing. A flash of blinding light suddenly fills the screen. That must have been what knocked everyone on their ass and ripped the barracks up.

Slowly the light fades, until it blinks out altogether, and I find my gorgeous, deceitful, lying little mate standing at the center of the room. She looks dazed, and she staggers a bit but manages to stay on her feet. Ever glances around seemingly confused, and then she registers the damage to the barracks. With panicked steps, she rushes through the room and starts pulling my Wing from the rubble. One by one, she checks everyone’s pulse and breathing while scanning the wreckage.

Suddenly, she dashes toward an upturned table and shoves it to the side. She drops down next to my prone body and checks my vitals and airway just like she did with the others. I watch as she sighs with relief, brushing ash from my face before she clasps one of my hands between hers. Ever says something, but I can’t hear or make out what.

I lie there unresponsive, my chest slowly rising and falling, when she leans over me and presses her head to my chest like she’s seeking comfort. She stays just like that for almost a minute before she sits up, kisses the inside of my palm, and then rests it against my chest. I look down at my hand as though I can still feel the press of her lips there, and then I watch on the feed as my mate stands up and walks out of the frame of the camera.

I rewind it and rewatch everything again.

“Is that what I think it is?” Blay asks, pointing to Ever just before she disappears.

“What?” Chastain asks, leaning over Blay to get a look at what he’s gesturing to.

Shock, fury, and pride fight for dominance of my thoughts when I zoom in to confirm that I’m seeing what I think I am.

“Ever has a dragon mark,” I murmur, and everyone goes still, stunned by my declaration.

Zooming in even more, I study the grainy still shot of the feed. At first I think Ever has flames climbing up her throat like I do, but the closer I look, the more I realize the lines of her mark look more like calligraphy. Inky strokes of varying thicknesses highlight the feminine angles of her jaw and shoulders. There are some daintier lines flowing between the broader ribbons of black, and there’s a star shape—or maybe it’s a rhombus—on the front of her throat. The dragon mark flows under the neckline of her top, and I suspect it continues down her back and across her chest.

It’s beautiful and perfect, and I want to trace each line with my tongue, but only after I throttle her until she explains what the fuck she was thinking. She could have altered the wards on the Fae Gate and subsequently fucked all of Drameric with this stunt, all because she wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t trust her own Bonded.

“What are your orders?” Karis asks, shaking ash out of his hair and pulling me from my furious thoughts.

“As soon as my brother gets here and the Fae Gate is resecured, we’re moving out.”

“Where to?” Farrow asks, pulling up several maps on his com so he can start preparing logistics.

My scowl deepens and my features grow hard. “Syphon hunting.”