Chapter 57
Chapter
Fifty-Seven
S ydney wraps me in her warm embrace, offering silent support. “Tell me. I’m here.”
“It was the day I lost my younger brother, Westin.” I swallow, already so choked up that I can barely speak. “I was twelve. After Lucan, my parents tried for over two hundred years to have another child. They were elderly when I was born. Even so, Westin surprised them ten years later.
“He wasn’t quite two when we went out to play one summer morning. Westin was my little shadow. He was funny and bright and happy. God, his laugh was a treasure. He was learning to play pranks on everyone. He looked up to me. And I loved him… God.”
Tears sting the backs of my eyes. I haven’t let myself think about that day or cry since Westin’s burial. Remembering his chapped little cheeks and happy giggles is like opening a chasm in my soul.
“I understand if you can’t say more now.”
I shake my head. “If I don’t, I’ll never finish. I was chasing him, pretending I was going to scoop him up and tickle him until he cried uncle. He ran, as always. He was a fast little bugger. Rather than catch him myself, I worked a little of the magic I’d been learning on him. He tripped.”
I can see it in my mind, those little feet stumbling, chubby hands flying. Why doesn’t closing my eyes make the vision go away?
“He fell?” Sydney prompts softly.
The only heat in my body comes from her soft touch. Everything else inside me is dead cold.
“Yes. And hit his head on a stone retaining wall. It was my fault.”
As I speak the words, I can see Westin’s feet tangle before he collided with craggy rocks, then crumpled to the ground, blood spewing from a ragged cut that burst his forehead wide open.
Sydney gasps. “It was an accident.”
I stab my eyes with a thumb and forefinger. Choke out the rest. Get it over with . After all, I owe her a complete explanation for breaking her heart. “I screamed, and my mother came running. I told her everything. She was rattled but promised that simple magic would make him well again. She squeezed my hand, and I remember feeling utter relief as she hovered her wand over Westin’s wound. Instead of healing, he choked, sputtered, and suffocated to death.”
Sydney frowns. “I don’t understand.”
“Her magic, meant to heal him, went awry. She was rattled, perhaps applied the wrong spell. I don’t know. After my mother stopped screaming, I remember hearing the song from the same fucking birds that were singing ten minutes before my life changed forever.”
“I’m so sorry, Caden.” Sydney wraps her arms even more tightly around me. “But it wasn’t your fault.”
How easy it would be to lean against her, let the balm of her love fill the festering wound inside me.
But dangerous.
“After that, my mother and I barely spoke. She retired to her bed and rarely left it. She claims she never blamed me but… Of course she did—and she should. I wouldn’t blame her for hating me. I used my magic, and it ultimately killed him and?—”
Tears. Scalding drops make a path down my face, and I wipe them away angrily before dragging in a rattling breath. “I can’t be with you. I shouldn’t even love you. Because I’ll lose you like I lost Westin, my mother, all my friends, and now Lucan. Their losses hurt like hell. Yours would kill me. I would have no reason left to live without you.”
“You have every reason to live. Lucan isn’t gone, and you won’t lose me. We’re going to fight this bastard and win.”
“There’s too much at risk. My heart is gone. I’d like to keep my sanity.”
Resignation stiffens her expression, and she steps out of my embrace. “I’ve lost my heart, too—and I embraced it because it could lead to something wonderful.”
A shrill female scream suddenly rips through the house. Adrenaline rushes through my veins.
“Stay here.” I push past Sydney and charge out of the room and down the hall. “Sabelle!”
Naturally, Sydney is on my heels. “Perhaps she didn’t leave. Is Lucan hurting her?”
Likely so, but if I confess that, then Sydney will insist on helping. The woman truly doesn’t understand the peril she puts herself in. Since I refuse to assume the risk of mating with her, I have no right to dictate to her. But damn it, I’m finding it harder and harder to hold my tongue.
As I reach Lucan and Anka’s bedroom, I try to slam the door in her face.
But Sydney pushes her way in. And we both stop and stare in horror at the drama unfolding.
I don’t know how, but Lucan came free from his bonds. He’s captured a female underneath him, her blond hair twisting in ringlets across the bed before cascading to the floor.
Shit. That’s not Sabelle. Who is she, and how did she get here?
I feel frozen with shock as I watch my brother growl, his face contorting with menace as he chokes the witch with all his might.
Fuck, he’s trying to kill her.
Instead of struggling, the woman embraces him while her whole body shakes. Something gentle and magical pours off her. I feel it in the air, soft and settling, flowing into Lucan.
What’s happening? I don’t recognize this witch’s magical signature. Not that I’m an expert, but there’s something…off about it.
Sydney gasps. The dainty witch manages to turn her head, revealing a red, distressed face.
“Anka!”
That’s her? It’s been so long…
I don’t have time for surprise. Lucan is about to kill his own mate. I have to stop him from snuffing out his beloved.
Why doesn’t he recognize her?
I jump into action, body slamming Lucan and knocking him off Anka.
“No!” the witch chokes out, the sound barely discernible above the din.
Primal instinct gives Lucan ferocity. He backhands me away with a roar. My head hits one of the bedposts with a thump.
Pain explodes through my skull. Cursing, I rub the sore spot. My hand comes away sticky and wet with blood.
Another choked scream has me struggling upright. Again, Lucan goes for Anka’s throat. As before, she clutches him to her, rather than shoving him away. Does she want to die?
I pull out my mobile phone, Bram ready on speed dial.
“Help is on the way,” Sydney says through a cloud of white smoke. “Sabelle gave me one of those enchanted rock things. I’ve just used it.”
That impulsiveness and acceptance of magic might get her into trouble on occasion, but right now it just might save the day. I tuck away the phone, then creep closer to my brother.
“Lucan,” I murmur, panic invading my bones. I have to stop this. Lucan will never forgive himself if I don’t. “You’re hurting Anka. Remember Anka? Your mate.”
Lucan’s face turns more feral. “Shock Denzell!”
What does that bastard have to do with Anka nearly gasping her last breath?
With that growl, Lucan’s fingers tighten on Anka’s neck. Sydney steps closer, and I panic, thrusting out an arm and shoving her back. If I can’t solve this quickly, I’ll have a tragedy on my hands. I don’t need two.
“No. Anka. Your Anka,” I insist. “Let her go.”
Still, the little witch beneath him grips Lucan tightly and trembles, despite the fact her face turns an alarming red and her eyes begin to roll back in her head.
I grab Lucan’s wrists but can’t pry them away. Anka draws in a wheezing breath—yet brings Lucan closer to her. I try to wedge myself between them, but both are frozen in place.
Suddenly, Lucan stiffens. His eyes fly open wide as Anka melts beneath him, either unconscious or…
Dear god, no .
The expression on Lucan’s face mirrors that thought. I see the whites of his eyes for the first time in a month. He blinks and focuses as if he can actually see.
Then Lucan rips his hands from Anka’s throat like he’s been scalded and sucks in a panicked gasp.
I freeze. Check Anka or restrain Lucan? Ask questions or start performing CPR and hope Lucan doesn’t kill me?
My brother saves me from untangling that mystery by rasping out, “What have I done?”
Then he promptly melts into unconsciousness.