Page 76 of Veiled Yearning

“My friends.” Larkin pitches his voice louder, and all heads swivel toward him. “It’s nearly time.”

Frederick and I stand on either side of him; Cait and Chiara beside us. Everyone else in the barn moves forward, gathering in a loose semi-circle around us. There’s a mix of expressions—worried, scared, eager—but each person has the same determination in their gaze.

Larkin turns to look at Frederick and I, and he says quietly, “My brothers. Are you ready for this?”

Frederick’s jaw tightens, and he gives a quick nod. “I’m ready.”

Holding Larkin’s gaze, I lift my chin. “Ready.”

Chiara’s fingers convulse around mine, cold and trembling.

Turning back to address the group, Larkin sets his shoulders and takes a deep breath before speaking. Confidence infuses his voice. “We are prepared for this. We have prepared for this. And we’re going to come out of this battle victorious.”

His gaze sweeps around the semi-circle, briefly landing on each person to exchange a silent acknowledgement of them being here.

All these people risking their lives to stop a man intent on destroying them.

Not just Sentinels; those of us who took on the weight of responsibility years, decades, or even centuries ago, accepting that death was always a possible outcome.

But all the others, who never planned to see battle. They could have turned their backs on this, but they didn’t.

It’s not always the warriors who are bravest. Sometimes it’s the people who are hesitant, scared, but volunteer anyway, because it’s the right thing to do.

Like Ethan and Ivy. Grace and Roman. Darien. Xavier. Circe. Paul. Chiara.

We can’t let them down. I can’t let them down.

“The first stage of battle will just be scouting,” Larkin explains. “Frederick and Cait—he glances over in their direction—will approach the house first. David and Raine will accompany them, using their group invisibility so they aren’t spotted. It’ll be a quick reconnaissance, just long enough for Cait to determine how many are in there, and their general locations.”

Larkin nods at David and Raine before shifting his gaze to Alex and Jules. Alex has his arm wrapped protectively around his wife, and his expression promises retribution to anyone who might try to hurt her.

“Once Cait is back, we’ll assign positions to everyone in our first wave.” Larkin lists off the people. “Alex. Jules. Titus. Paul. Darien. David. Raine. Nylah, Lucas. Knight. Xavier. Sam. Circe. And myself. We’ll be the first to attack. The rest will be in the second wave; the one going after Nicolas.”

“We’ll have to be ready to change plans on the fly,” I add. “And that’s okay. The key to a successful battle is adaptability. If you see something and think the plan needs to change, tell Larkin. Or Frederick. Or me. If we’re not nearby, send a silent shout to Knight, and he can get the message to us.”

“And one other thing,” Frederick says. “For those of you not as familiar with the shared abilities, we can only cast them two or three times during the span of this battle. If we could do it more, we would. So please believe me when I say we’re using them strategically.”

Small nods and soft okays ripple through the group. Grace glances up at Roman with a worried expression, and he draws her small body into his arms. Ivy flashes a glance at Ethan, and he gives her a quick kiss in return.

“Alright.” Larkin turns to Frederick and Cait. “Are you ready to head out?”

Cait pales, but she holds her head high. “Yes. We’re ready.”

David and Raine come forward as Frederick and Cait move to join them.

Seconds later, the four of them disappear.

The barn falls into silence as the first part of our fight begins.

Chiara slips her arm around my waist and presses up against me. She’s shaking, tiny tremors she’s gritting her jaw against, and her lips are pressed in a tight line.

I hate that she has to do this. But after days of strategizing, we couldn’t come up with a way that didn’t involve Chiara and her ability. Our ability. Without Chiara, our chances of winning would go down dramatically. And if we lose, Nicolas will take her. Hurt her.

“How long will they be?” Chiara whispers. She’s not the only one whispering. There are soft murmurs and barely heard conversations, everyone feeling the same solemn stillness, a precursor to the controlled chaos coming next.

“Not long.” I press my lips to the top of her head. “It’s only a few miles, and once Cait is there, she should be able to take a count very quickly.”

She stares at me, fear darkening her eyes. “I hope Cait… She’ll be okay. Right?”

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