Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Scottie
I stare at Huntley, my mind struggling to process his words. The firelight catches the pain in his blue eyes, so raw and honest it steals my breath. All these years, I’d carried this weight of shame about that night, believing I’d been nothing but a conquest to him.
“You were in love with me?” My voice cracks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought I had shown you. Then, hearing you whisper Zane’s name in your sleep…” He looks away, his massive frame seeming to shrink. “I couldn’t stay after that.”
The memory of that night floods back—the gentleness in his touch, how safe I’d felt in his arms. I’d been so broken over Zane’s rejection, and Huntley had been there, solid and real.
But I’d hurt him just as deeply without knowing it.
“When you were gone the next morning, I thought you had gotten what you wanted.” I wrap the blanket tighter around myself. “To prove you could have what Zane couldn’t.”
A bitter laugh escapes him. “And you thinking that of me proves my point. You never truly saw me. If you had, things might’ve been different.”
“What was I supposed to think?”
His fingers drum against his thigh. “For ten years, I watched you love him. Ten years I tried to be content being the outsider looking in. And then, when I finally showed you my heart, you crushed it, and you never even came to ask me why I left.”
Young Huntley appears in my mind. After his seethe was killed, he came to us damaged and guarded. Even when we were close, he always hovered at the edges, his sarcasm masking something I was too blind to see.
How many times did he reach out, in his own way, only to watch me chase after Zane?
“I didn’t know.” The words feel inadequate against the weight of his confession. “I should have, and I’m sorry, but I had no idea.”
He rises from the couch and runs a hand down the front of his shirt. “All three of us were destroyed that night. Whether it was fate or stubborn pride or each of us not being mature enough to face our worst fears, mistakes were made. Zane and I stayed and worked through the damage. You ran away and refused any of us the chance to move past it.”
It’s the gut-wrenching pain in his gaze, or the crack in his voice, but his accusation hits as hard as a strike to the sternum. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
He turns to leave and stops dead. I follow his gaze and gasp. “Ohmygod, Zane. How long have you been standing there?”
Zane
I stand at the entranceway of Scottie’s living room, the energy in the air charged like a battlefield. Huntley and Scottie? The pieces of my world crack and shift beneath my feet.
Huntley was her first?
Anger erupts inside me, hot and violent, and I stalk toward him. “Seven fucking years. She left, and you never said a thing to me in seven fucking years!”
“Zane, I—” Huntley backs up, his palms raised as he stammers.
“Even when we crossed the line and became more than best friends, you still never told me.”
“How could I?” Huntley’s voice is tight, his eyes filled with something dark and conflicted. “She was yours. She was always yours. Even after I showed her how I felt, she was still yours.”
Scottie stands abruptly, her face flushed. “I’m a person! I didn’t belong to anyone! I was na?ve and disillusioned and, in hindsight, had my life way too wrapped up in Zane, but I didn’t belong to anyone. I still don’t!”
My blood heats at her words, fire igniting within me. “Wrong. You are mine. Whether you admit it or not. Whether you like it or not. You are mine.”
“Back then, but things changed— I changed.”
“Yes, and I accept that I’m responsible for most of that, but I didn’t give you up for him to take advantage of you.”
Huntley’s fangs descend. “I didn’t take advantage. She was hurting. She begged me?—”
I’m across the room, fangs extended and gripping him by the throat in a blur. Frames on the wall rattle as I pin him hard, and push in so we’re nose to nose. “She fucking begged you, did she?”
Huntley presses his hands on my chest but doesn’t put up a fight. He knows he deserves this. Dammit, he also enjoys being my submissive. “Don’t you dare get turned on by this, asshole. I’m not playing here.”
Huntley’s brow arches, seemingly undeterred by the threat of me crushing his windpipe. “It was seven years ago. We all fucked up that night. None of us knew the whole of the situation. Now that we do, we can finally put it to rest.”
“I’ll fucking put you to rest.”
“Zane, stop!” Scottie has a hold on my arm, pulling me off Huntley.
It cuts me, leaving a wound jagged and raw. “You’re defending him?”
“I’m reminding you that the three of us are more than the worst night of our lives—or what was the worst night until Daeva and Lazarus Kava targeted us.”
The name of our enemies on her lips brings me back to our current clusterfuck. I lean in, pegging Huntley with a glare. “We’re not done with this.”
“Bring it. Any time. Any place.”
“Fuck you, Viking.” I’m still not sure if he’s taunting me or turned on. Which only makes me angrier.
Movement brings Tucker around the corner with Jack at his side.
“Wow. What did we miss?” He glances between us and smiles at Scottie.
Huntley growls, his gaze cutting toward Tucker like a knife. “None of your business.”
Scottie stops yanking at my arm and turns away. “Hey, Jack. Tell me—what’s the best way for a squire to get the vampire king to back the fuck down when he’s being a territorial asshole?”
Jack meets her gaze directly, either uninterested or oblivious to our dysfunctional tableau. Although, having been my father’s squire for decades, he’s witnessed untold dysfunctional moments.
“Time to get along, kids. Tucker was telling me about the energy pulse that hit you last night.”
Fuck, even the mention of it is enough to liquify my bowels. Finding Scottie lying there, her heart not beating, was horrifying.
“It sounds like your powers need an outlet. For your safety and the good of the compound, it’s time we begin your training.”
Scottie blinks. “You think I caused the energy blast?”
Jack nods. “It sounds like it, but I’ll know more once we get started and I see what I’m dealing with.”
Scottie flashes me a dirty look before offering Jack a grin. “All right, then. Beating the hell out of someone sounds amazing right now. Oh, I meant sparring.”
Jack chuckles. “I’m sure you did.”
Scottie strides off to get changed, and Tucker and Jack leave to prepare for her training.
I ease back from Huntley and release my hold on his throat. “We’ll circle around to you being a lying, backstabbing dickwad later. In the meantime, I need my head of security to escort me outside the compound. We’ve got other lying, backstabbing dickwads to kill.”
Huntley rubs his hand over the red fingermarks marring his throat. “Excellent. Like the lady said, beating the hell out of someone sounds amazing right now.”
Tucker
I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Scottie train with Jack. She’s relentless, lunging at him with an intensity that feels off. Her strikes are sharp and too aggressive for a training session. Jack dodges and counters, but I see the way he’s tiring.
“Take it down a notch, beautiful!” I call out, stepping into the room. “This isn’t a death match, and Jack isn’t your enemy.”
Jack ducks and sidesteps another blow.
“Perfect practice makes perfect.” Scottie barely glances my way, her focus locked on her target. Her next punch lands squarely on Jack’s forearm.
Jack winces slightly but shakes it off. “You’ve got fire today, kid.”
“It’s been a day.” She flips her hair back and blows at the strand in her face. “Scratch that. It’s been a week.”
Yeah, but it’s more than fire. It’s like the magic in her cells is agitated and building to blow again. I can’t let that happen. The last detonation killed her.
But how do we fix it? Scottie’s muscles are taut, her jaw clenched tight enough to crack glass. Whatever happened between her, Huntley, and Zane, it still lingers in the air like smoke after a fire.
I step closer as she throws another kick at Jack. I catch her foot in mid-air and gesture for him to step back. “Let me take over for a bit, Dad. You observe and train from the sidelines. I think our girl needs to really hit someone.”
Scottie huffs but relents, wiping sweat from her brow. “I’m fine.”
“Then you’re too close to it to see the truth.”
Scottie stands opposite me now, eyes narrowed. “Are you picking a fight?”
“Not even a little. I’m helping.”
“God save me from men who think they know what’s best for me.” She rolls her shoulders back and circles me like a wolf on the hunt.
I gauge where she is mentally while waiting for her to make a move.
When she lunges, I feint left and then strike right. My fist grazes her shoulder as she pivots away from my reach, spinning her from the force. She grits her teeth, something wild flashing in her hazel gaze.
“There’s something off with you, beautiful. I sense it and worry that if we don’t get it under control, you might detonate again.”
“Got me all figured out, do you?”
I shift my stance again, working to figure out how to break through whatever wall she’s built around herself today. “What was going on with Zane and Huntley when I walked in earlier?”
Her expression darkens, magic crackling around her fingers.
“If it’s none of my business, tell me, but if you need to vent, I’m here.”
Anger flashes across her features, and without warning, she lunges.
I dodge, but she’s fast. She grazes my side instead of connecting full force—but then energy lashes between us like lightning arcing through the sky. It slams into my chest and sends me staggering back.
The impact rattles through my bones and stings like a bitch, but it doesn’t do damage—not really. The same magic coursing through her lives within me.
Someone else hit by that blast would be hurt or killed, but I absorb it.
Her frustration gets away from her and she screams. Energy hemorrhages out of her and I’m bombarded by the full strength of her powers. I’m blown off my feet, and crash back into the mats.
The squire magic connects us, and I don’t resist.
I open myself to it—to her—and stabilize the chaos within me rather than allowing it to blow us both apart.
When she’s out of juice, she seems to snap out of the fighting frenzy. Eyes wide, she rushes over. “Tucker! Are you okay?”
An energy buzz zings around inside me, ricocheting in every direction like angry wasps protecting their hive. “I’m okay. But next time, you could believe me before you fry my internal organs.”
Her expression shifts from panic to guilt. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“It’s your powers, kid.” Jack jogs over from where he watched the whole interaction. “Sacred Scribe magic is meant to become an integrated part of its host. That’s not happening. You need to stop fighting this and accept them.”
She drops onto her ass beside me and sighs. “And what if I don’t want that?”
“That’s your call, but it’s time to make it.”