Page 57 of Shattered Jewel

Axe is silent as he pores over books we’ve spread out across the table. His ashen hair falls over his steel-gray eyes that have seen too much hurt in their time. It’s a sight that would make any woman swoon if they didn’t know the ink-black soul residing within him.

“Then we move,” I say, rising to my feet in one fluid motion despite the sling hampering my left arm. “Now. Before the Sovereigns summon us for their entertainment again.”

Wilder drains the last of the whiskey and slams the empty bottle onto the time-eroded piano, flashing a ferocious grin. “Do you think Granny will make us some cookies?”

I shoot him a sharp look, but he just grins, unrepentant. Typical.

Axe shoves his phone into his pocket and rises.

Cav pushes off the bookshelf, a low groan escaping through gritted teeth as his hand flies to his chest. Fresh blood seeps through the bandages swathing his torso. Elara goes to his side, concern creasing her brow.

“Cav, you’re in no condition?—”

“I’m fine,” he snaps, shrugging off her supporting hand. He sways on his feet but stays upright through sheer force of will. “I don’t need you to be my nurse.”

“And I don’t have the time to drag you into hiding if that intruder follows us and drops of your blood lead him directly to us,” Elara retorts. “I doubt you’ll be able to take him on.”

I stare at her for a long moment, searching her face for any sign of doubt or fear. But there’s none to be found. Only a diehard resolve that makes my heart beat faster in my chest.

My lips pull down in agreement. “She’s right, Cav. Wilder, you take the bike and scout ahead—fuck.”

I tear my gaze away from Elara and land on the empty whiskey bottle. “You can’t drive.”

“And you’ve got a bum arm,” Wilder counters. “I’d take my tipsy ass over your left-handed punch any day.”

“No,” Elara says, pointing at Wilder. “No way. I know how you are on that bike sober, never mind with alcohol in your system. You’re not driving anywhere.”

It bothers me to no end that I can’t shove them all out of the way, grab Elara, and take the lead. I’ve never despised an injury as much as I do at this moment.

I cross the room in three long strides and snag my laptop, snapping it shut and tucking it under my good arm. As I turn, my gaze collides with Elara’s. She radiates such fierce hatred toward me that a thrill zings into my cock.

Christ, I want to taste that fire. To possess it. To break her and remake her until she’s mine, body and soul.

“That leaves Axe,” I manage to say. “He’ll go with you.”

Axe shifts on his feet and squares his shoulders. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Cav snaps.

He pulls his phone from his pocket. “The Sovereigns have asked for me.”

A sharp exhale hisses between my teeth. “For what?”

Axe shakes his head with uncertainty. “More questioning. Initiate oversight. A task where I have to take an initiate with me. It could be any of those.”

A resounding “Fuck” echoes through the four of us.

With Axe off the table for now, Cav bleeding out on us, and Wilder too much of a liability, that leaves only one other option.

“Are you volunteering, then?” Elara asks me.

A sudden nauseating wave of desire slams into me like a freight train. Lust and longing tug at my gut. Wanting Elara is a given, but needing her is new and unfamiliar territory that I refuse to navigate.

Dammit, she knows exactly how to challenge me. And I fucking love it.

Chapter 15

Elara

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