Chapter Thirty
Lia
“Take a walk with me?” Carter asks.
I follow him into the forest and away from the tents.
“You’re not going to murder me, are you?”
“You’re one of the few people I’m not trying to kill today.” His humor fades as quickly as it came. He stops near a cluster of pines and turns to face me. “I know about Draven and Joaquin. Leo told me.”
I stop short, bracing for the same reaction I got from Kylo, but he remains impassive.
“You knew,” I say quietly. “And you still chose to help us?”
“You didn’t choose this. Don’t carry Joaquin’s crimes on your back.”
Something in my chest loosens at his words. “I’m guessing you heard my fight with Kylo.”
His gaze doesn’t waver. The Radshaw men never miss much.
“Give him time. Kylo’s always been reactive when it comes to the Aether Hunters. He’s more sensitive than he lets on.”
“Sensitive?” I snort.
A corner of his mouth lifts. “When it comes to the people he cares about? Very.”
My thoughts drift to Kylo’s tattoo. The way his voice changes when he talks about Blair. The grief he carries, quiet but ever-present.
“When the smoke clears, he’ll see the truth. You aren’t the enemy, Lia.”
My hands curl at my sides. “People died yesterday. Just because I’m not the enemy doesn’t mean my hands are clean.”
“We did what we had to.” His voice is flat. No apologies. No regret. “Do you think they would’ve spared us?”
I don’t answer.
“They won’t stop until we’re a memory. When the line is drawn, are you going to stand behind it, or are you going to cross it?”
Could I take a life?
My mind flashes to the way Leo’s hands shook the last time I saw him. He’s endured enough.
“I’m ready.”
Carter searches my face, hunting for a flinch or a blink of hesitation. I hold his gaze, letting my need to save Leo anchor me.
“If we succeed,” he says, his shoulders dropping a fraction. “The rest of us can finally live in peace.”
Peace.
A foreign concept.
“I want this war to end. I don’t want to lose anyone else.”
“It’s time to put the Aether Hunters down.”
“What’s the plan?”
“We’re driving back to the Seattle border to meet with Elijah. They’ve pinned Joaquin’s compound in the heart of Olympic National Forest.”
“Won’t they see us coming?”
“That’s where shielders like me come in. We can mask others, but only for short bursts. If we move fast enough, they won’t know we’re there until it’s too late.”
I hadn’t realized that he could wrap his power around others like a shroud.
“How do you know the layout?”
“Elijah’s undercover soldier, Akira Mori, stole their blueprints. We’ll map out the entry points once we rendezvous.” He pauses, his gaze darkening. “We’re still outnumbered. But we have a strong team. If we move as one, we might actually make it out of there.”
His faith feels misplaced. I can barely control my abilities on a good day.
Carter glances at his watch. “Let’s head back to camp and help Zayne pack up.”
We walk back to the campground in silence, but inside, my thoughts are anything but calm.
I can’t stop thinking about Draven.
How did he breach my mind from that distance?
Kylo told me the farthest he’d managed was fifty miles.
Draven is far beyond that.
A wave of uneasiness rolls over me. Sweat beads along my hairline, trickling down my cheeks, even though my breath fogs in the cold. The forest warps, green leaves melting into brown bark until everything becomes a dizzying kaleidoscope of color.
Flashes of Leo—bruised, bloodied, tied down—stab through my mind like a horror reel. I double over, gasping, my temples pounding.
Carter’s face wavers in and out of focus, his expression full of concern, but the trees spin too quickly. I clutch my knees and squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to throw up.
Everything tilts, and I’m yanked back to that ominous beach.
The sky hangs with roiling clouds—gray and purple churning like a storm barely held at bay. The horizon fades where sea meets sky, the scent of salt and rain woven into the wind.
“What are you after?” I yell, but the waves crash louder than my own voice.
Draven appears. “You know exactly why I’m here.”
“You want me dead.”
“Not quite. You’re a siphon. We’ve spent years scrubbing your kind off the map, but you? We aren’t going to kill you.”
I keep my face a mask, even as my skin crawls.
“We’ll break that mind of yours until it splinters. Twist every memory, every thought, until nothing you feel is your own. You’ll siphon every soul that stands against us and strip them down to husks. And when you’re begging for the end? You’ll be the one who kills Leo.”
His hand closes around my throat. I thrash, prying at his grip. “I will find you,” he declares. “And when I do, you’ll regret choosing the enemy over your own blood.”
“Let me go!” The scream barely makes it past my constricted windpipe.
He squeezes harder. “You can’t stop me.”
“Why are you doing this? Why did you take his side?”
“Side?” He scoffs. “Joaquin decided who I would become before I could walk.”
“You could have stopped him!” I scratch his wrist, my nails drawing blood.
“You think you understand Joaquin’s power?” he hisses. “His reach? The way he owns everything he touches? He’s been building his empire for years. I was one soldier in an army of thousands. There’s no stopping him.”
“You could have fought him,” I gasp. “You’re a coward.”
His smile dies. “Call me a coward if it makes you feel strong. You don’t know true fear. Not yet.” He leans in, his breath ice-cold against my ear. “I’ll be seeing you.”
Black spots creep into my vision.
I lurch upward. The forest sways in nauseating cycles. Blurry shapes move toward me—Carter, Zayne—but I can’t make out their faces.
I trace the tender spot where Draven’s fingers dug into my throat, the pain still vivid, as if the trace of his touch refuses to leave.
A hand touches my shoulder, and I jump back several feet.
“Hey. It’s me,” Kylo says, brushing a strand of damp hair from my face.
My fingers twitch, adrenaline still pumping. I drag in a breath, but it’s shallow, saturated with fear and doubt.
It’s not all mine.
I rise, needing to distance myself from them and the emotions leaking at their seams. My balance falters, and I stumble sideways into Kylo’s solid frame.
He catches me, his hands bracing my waist. “Take a second. Let your body catch up.”
“She needs to calm down,” Zayne says.
That tone lights a fuse inside me. I shove away from Kylo, needing room to breathe.
Anything to stop the spiral.
When I enter the tent, I drop to my knees, my hands trembling as I fumble my gear into my pack.
Draven wasn’t always like this.
When I was four, terrified of sleeping in the dark even with Leo beside me, Draven would sneak into our room at night and sleep on the floor, holding my hand until I drifted off.
Pressure builds inside my head. The ache is blinding.
I just want it to stop.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
My lungs fight against me, like they’ve forgotten how to expand.
The tent walls close in. I curl forward, my chin dipping toward my chest as I grip the hair at my nape until it hurts, but the sensation of being trapped intensifies. Draven’s touch lingers, mocking me, reminding my body of every time Joaquin did the same.
He hurt us because he could. Because he held every string.
I’m not safe. Draven’s out there. Joaquin’s out there.
I try box breathing. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. I press my fist over my heart, rubbing tight, frantic circles as I fight to find the ground beneath me.
“Lia.” Kylo’s voice is distant. “Breathe with me. We’ll get through this together.”
“I can’t.” My forehead presses into my knees. “I can’t do this.”
He tilts my chin. “Look at me.”
“I can’t,” I gasp. Each breath feels like sandpaper in my lungs.
“You can. Follow my lead.”
He counts to four, holds, then counts again and holds.
“Breathe.” He places my palm on his chest, rising and falling slowly. He repeats the numbers as I look into his eyes—those deep ocean blues—and they tether me.
I inhale quickly, the sound almost like a wheeze.
“Do it again,” he says. “Slower this time.”
Air rushes into my lungs.
“Better?” he asks softly.
My pulse slows. “Yes.”
“What do you feel right now?”
“You.”
When he touches me, a protective pull settles over my heart, like a lullaby whispered in the dark.
I look down at my hands, still trembling against his chest. I don’t recognize any part of myself anymore.
Whatever these powers are turning me into, I don’t want it.
His hand rubs slow, steady circles on my back. “Are you ready to tell me what happened back there?”
“Draven invaded my mind again.”
“What was he after?”
“He isn’t looking to kill me.” I look at my hands, feeling a sudden revulsion for the power humming in my veins. “He needs me alive long enough to serve a purpose.”
I trace the mark on my throat. Kylo follows my gaze and curses, his fingers hovering over the sore spot. “He did this to you?”
“It all seemed so real.”
His jaw tightens. “A telepath shouldn’t be able to touch you like that.”
“It was like I died.”
It felt like the darkness was inside me, empty as a graveyard.
“You can’t let him in, Lia. Not if he can hurt you like this.”
“How am I supposed to do that? He slips in when I least expect it.”
“How many times has this happened? What do you feel before he breaks through?”
“Only twice. I don’t know why he’s doing this now. The first time it happened, I was asleep. The second, I felt myself slipping, like falling into a panic attack. Before I could process what was happening, I was pulled into whatever twisted reality he created.”
“We’ll keep training. I’ll help you strengthen your defenses.”
“It doesn’t matter how many hours I train,” I say with quiet finality. “I can’t match his strength.”
“You’re the only one who can keep him out. Not by giving in. By holding your ground. You can’t let him win.”
I hate everything Draven has done.
I hate that he chose Joaquin over us.
If he hadn’t helped him, maybe the war would’ve ended sooner.
Maybe fewer graves would exist because of his choices.
Joaquin is the reason my body carries proof long after the wounds have healed.