Chapter 39 Threats and Temptations #2
“I was two the first time I directed water.”
My head aches, trying to recall anything unusual again. “I don’t think so.”
He releases a long breath through his nose. “You’re probably right. The way your dad was, he probably would have done a fucking exorcism on you.”
His judgment for them is just as bleak as Griffin’s.
Silence falls between us as we head down the stairs. I don’t try to defend my parents or condemn them. Instead, I fold the thoughts away into the far recesses of my mind—somewhere I’m not forced to look.
“Is your family in Lowick?” It’s the first time I’ve asked about his family. I know nothing about any of their families.
Kai swallows, his gaze shifting over my shoulder. “My mom was killed by Veilbreakers when I was six.”
I nearly reach out, nearly listen to the instinct to comfort him, but I fist my hands instead. “I’m sorry.”
He nods. “We lived in a clan that traveled, thinking they’d avoid conflict that way, but we were found. A large number were taken, and many others were killed.”
“Your dad?”
Kai purses his lips. “My parents were Mates.”
“Do you ever hear from him?”
He shakes his head once.
Before I can ask any more questions, Lief lifts a tray of snacks and tea. “Extra nettleleaf,” he says, handing the tray to Kai with a slight nod.
I smile my appreciation, grateful that nettleleaf tastes like sweet tangerines. “Thanks, Lief.”
He smiles. “Lochlan and Holden are already out there.”
My stomach drops.
Kai and I step into the backyard, where the chill in the air dances across my exposed body for only a second before a warm breeze embraces me like a hug. I turn to Kai. “You can warm the air?”
His nod is nearly imperceptible as I run a hand in front of me.
“What are you doing?”
“Seeing where it ends.”
He laughs, a sound so infectious my lips pull up at the corners. “You’ll have to stretch your arm a lot farther to feel the difference.”
“How?” I cry, crossing the stones that lead to the springs. “How much can you alter the temperature? Could you make it snow?”
“We get enough snow,” Lochlan says from where he’s reclined in the springs.
“I love the snow,” I admit, climbing the steps. My comfort with the water has grown marginally. I no longer ask Scarlet to lower it, but my steps are always cautious.
No one says anything until I’m submerged, the warm water seeping into my aching muscles and joints.
“I was filling Loch in on Ronan Yuri,” Holden says, elbows propped on the edges, making his chest look even broader. “If you’re okay with it, we’d like to witness the memory and ensure nothing was missed.”
I take a sip of the tea that Kai hands me. “You mean memory letting?” The process involves sending a specific memory to someone. We’ve discussed it a few times, answering questions after I read about it. The action takes a lot of training, and can still go wrong.
Lochlan nods.
“You know I’m not ready for that. We haven’t even gone over the basics.”
“I didn’t think you were ready for echoes either,” Lochlan says.
“What’s the alternative?”
“We mindwalk, and go to the memory.” Lochlan’s eyes hold a note of lavender in the gray afternoon.
“Like you did to Daire?”
His eyes glint with the memory. “Yes, but it won’t hurt because I don’t have to pry through your shields.”
“We need to make sure that’s what Ronan said,” Kai explains, “so we know if he’s a threat.”
My cheeks fill with air. “Okay. What do I need to do?”
“Just relax,” Lochlan says. “If you shield or tense up, you’ll change the route. I’ll be moving through your thoughts, carrying Kai and Holden with me.”
“Will I know where you go?”
“I can bring you with us, but don’t have to.”
“I want to see what you do.”
Lochlan nods.
My heart throbs as nerves course through my veins, despite my best attempt to relax.
“Feel us?” Lochlan asks.
I nod, sensing a faint sense of their presence in my thoughts.
“Since it was recent, it will only take a moment,” Lochlan says as he plays the last several minutes on fast-forward. My memories jump to Kai and Veronica in the alcove, and then Veronica kissing Kai at Keyhouse.
“Relax,” Lochlan instructs.
“I’m trying,” I mutter, hating that they’re witnessing the rejection I felt when I was packed away in the glider and my cindrel reacted to seeing them kissing.
Lochlan shifts the memories to today, to the oppressive exhaustion after D&C when I went looking for Kai.
I’m grateful I didn’t stick around and eavesdrop longer when I’d found him and Veronica in the alcove as they relive the memory with that same overwhelming precision that reveals all my emotions and thoughts.
Ronan appears a few seconds later. This time, I focus on every word he says, but also the way his light gaze burns into me.
“He thinks he knows something,” Holden says as the mindwalk ends.
Lochlan’s expression darkens. “He should be tried for the insinuation.”
I tighten my grip on the mug of tea, hating how fear lingers in my bones. “We should practice shielding.”
Kai looks at me. Looks straight through me. “You need to rest.”
“I need to practice.”
“We felt your exhaustion. You need to take the weekend and rest.”
A protest rises to my tongue, wanting to remind him of what he just witnessed or how quickly my meeting with Lyra is coming, but Holden shifts forward. “If we leave soon, we can make it to Portelina by dinner.”
“We?” I ask. I was planning to ride there with Everett, Gideon, and Wynn, a deal that took all week to broker.
Holden doesn’t miss a beat. “Daire and Griffin won’t be letting you out of their sights when they hear about Ronan.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t tell them,” I say.
Lochlan smirks as he closes his eyes and leans back. “While I’m happy to conspire against them regarding most things, this isn’t a fight I have the energy for. We’ll tell them on the way to Portelina. Now close your eyes and rest.”
“The game’s on Sunday. We don’t need to leave tonight.”
Lochlan’s silver eyes flash to mine. “Rest.”
With a huff, I set my tea down and lean back.
I’m still terrible at meditation.
Every sound and change in the breeze distracts me. Sometimes one of them gives me a pointed look—a silent reminder to relax, other times, they tell me without even opening their eyes.
It’s infuriating.
Lochlan eventually sighs, his silver eyes lazy and weighted, and then, without warning, I’m pulled back into that foreign place within his mind, so consuming this time it feels like my only reality. Sit, he orders, but his voice lacks the usual bite when he’s annoyed.
I’m still in my bathing suit in his mental space, and I briefly ponder if that’s my doing or his, since he’s wearing jeans and a dark Henley. I try not to overthink it, plopping on the couch with an edge of defiance. It sinks beneath me, warm and enveloping.
If I knew how to talk to him in here, I’d ask how to conjure one of these mental couches in my own mind, or maybe how he’s able to maintain a single focal spot rather than sprinting through thoughts and memories.
Your exhaustion is affecting your shields. Even in this mental space, his eyes flash with impatience. Sleep, Witchling, Lochlan orders as he sits across from me.
I want to resist and argue—fighting him is beginning to feel instinctual—but exhaustion wins.
I surrender, not to him, but to my body’s demands.