Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Wilder
The look on Izzy’s face when we arrive in Scotland, on a drizzly day, makes me smile. She stares around herself in wonder. I want to give her the world. Maybe one day, we can travel without having to fight.
Van bumps my shoulder, and I look at him expecting a smart-ass remark. But he just looks at me with his lips tilting at one corner, as if he had the same thought I did.
We drive long, wet streets to discover that Mr. Time had rented a castle.
“It’s got good defensible positions, just in case they surprise us,” he says.
“Got a dungeon for this guy?” Van asks, resting his elbow on Oliver’s shoulder.
“Leave him alone,” Izzy chides Van. She gives Oliver an uncertain smile that twists at my heart. She’s so kind--definitely better than the rest of us.
The castle’s gray rock exterior looks amazing, and the inside is even better. But we don’t have time to enjoy it; we throw our bags into our rooms, take quick showers, then head downstairs to the living room.
Oliver walks us through the defenses of their castle, sketching out a map. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen horses that were more talented artists, and I frown at the pile of papers mounting up on the table.
“Shouldn’t the godslayers be here?” Izzy interrupts. “We can do this together.”
Mr. Time looks grim. “We lost contact with them after they went on a mission for me.”
Izzy’s lips part in alarm. I don’t trust them after what happened, but I feel bad for them too. They’re probably dead.
“Would they have killed them?” I ask Oliver.
“Not if they thought you idiots would rush in to rescue him,” Oliver says. “But that doesn’t mean they aren’t dead now, depending on how much of a fight your friends put up.”
His face takes on a contemptuous look. “How could you even be friends with them? They wanted you dead.”
“Izzy’s very open-minded,” Aiden teases her, but I’m pretty sure he means it when he adds, “and we all try to make her happy.”
Oliver doesn’t answer, but his sneer says plenty.
Later on, while we’re still working on our plan, Izzy slips off to the kitchen to get a drink.
I notice that Oliver leaves the room too.
Maybe I should give Izzy her privacy, but I feel a flare of protectiveness that makes me too restless to stay still.
I finally stretch and saunter out of the room, leaving the warm, wood-paneled study for the huge, bright kitchen at the other end of the house.
Izzy is getting sodas out of the fridge for all of us when Oliver walks into the room.
“You’ve really got them all wrapped around your little finger, don’t you?” he asks.
She turns to face him, pinning the sodas along her chest with one arm. “I wouldn’t say that. We all love each other and look out for each other.”
“Sure.” The misogyny just drips from this guy. I wonder what happened to make him like this. I don’t think any guy comes out this toxic and obnoxious without a reason.
Makes me wonder what Thea’s life is like.
“I’m sure their love doesn’t have anything to do with what a slut you are,” he adds.
And that’s it. I’m done.
When I come around the corner, he twists toward me and horror washes over his face.
I shove him. “Yeah, I heard you.”
“It’s fine, Wilder,” Izzy says.
“No, it’s not. No one’s going to talk to you that way when we’re around.”
His magic sparks. He looks at me with narrowed, fearful eyes over the light of magic in his hands, which casts flickering shadows across his face. “You won’t always be around, will you?”
His magic flares toward me. I roll to one side, and I don’t mean to, but when I punch him, he flies all the way across the room. He slams into the window at the other end and it shatters under his weight.
His arms windmill before he plummets out of sight.
“Oliver!” Izzy screams.
The two of us rush to the window to see his bloodied, broken body on the rocks below.
“I didn’t mean to,” I say. “I just--”
“It’s okay,” Izzy says. She’s the one comforting me for real this time, as she pulls me into her arms.
“I’m never going to let anyone hurt you,” I say fiercely, and the two of us cling to each other in the shattered wreckage of the glass.