Page 96 of Shattered Jewel

I don’t have to include his chest for him to understand what I’m referring to.

The searing brand of his scrutiny intensifies, but I lock onto the burn.

This is bigger than us. This is about finding out who I am and who my brother was. Nothing is more important.

Axe rests his forearms on the table, one hand clenching his phone. “Even if you find Clover, Elara, she won’t be alone. She never is.”

“Sounds familiar,” I drawl.

Kaspian exhales a sound caught between humor and threat, lounging back in his seat. “She wants to play with the birds? Then let her.”

I clamp down on my rising frustration. “You’ve seen more than one side of them, Kaspian.”

Wilder laughs. “And what side is that, exactly? The one where they kill people?”

“No, like when Rossi and Tempest stitched up his shoulder. Not to mention, they helped me get my mother to safety instead of into jail.”

Sasha shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “Maybe we should?—”

“I know what Clover is,” I concede, so passionate about the subject that I cut Sasha off. “But I also know that she wrote a paper about Sarah Anderton’s nameless daughter—who is likely one of my ancestors, and she did a ton of research. There’s something there, guys.”

Kaspian’s rare laugh cuts through the air, sharp as broken glass, like I’m some sort of chick following the bigger birds around, and it’s the last straw.

I push back from the table, my chair scraping against the floor. “Fine. You guys can sit around debating the risks all you want. I’m going to track down Clover and get the information I need. Feel free to join me when you’re done with your little war council.”

I stride for the door, but Wilder’s voice stops me. “Wait.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I see him push to his feet, muscles bunched tight. “I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You need backup. And out of the four of us, I’m still flawless in my execution.”

He winks while the other three frown, but don’t argue, since they sport fresh injuries and he’s come out unscathed.

So far.

It’s a stark reminder. My worry for them ratchets up to an unbearable level.

If the Sovereigns get to them before I’ve found the answers, if I lose these men forever and waste all of Maverick’s, of my father’s, efforts to bring down the Cimmerian Court … what did they die for? What am I good for?

My time is running out.

Wilder slings his leather jacket over his shoulder as we exit the manor and descend the stairs to the circular drive.

I glance sideways at him, my initial irritation melting away as he falls into step beside me. I’ll never admit it, but his attendance is a comfort. Clover may not be a threat, but her Vulture bodyguards are. Having Wilder along could mean the difference between getting the information I need and ending up in a body bag.

We stride across the gravel drive, boots crunching, my mother’s manor taking its skeletal shape behind us.

When we reach the sleek black SUV, Wilder opens the passenger door for me, a gentlemanly habit even in the midst of his lawless, unpredictable mind.

Though I expect it, I still flinch when he gets into the driver’s seat and guns the engine, the SUV leaping forward like a viper and me recoiling like the viper’s lunch.

He tears down the long, winding road, gravel spraying from the wheels.

Farrow Manor, where I’ve left poor Sasha with three of the most unprincipled men I’ve ever come across and their assurances that they’ll make sure Sasha goes to class today and finds normalcy again, recedes in the distance.

I stare straight ahead, my side of my throat hammering with my pulse. I’m acutely aware of Wilder beside me, his body a tangled spring of energy. It’s hard to believe he funneled so much of his fire into me a mere hour ago.

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