Page 18 of Damian

Carrying the fragile remains of a girl who had suffered so much feels like the hardest battle I’ll ever face.

Each step through the labyrinth feels like a step toward understanding. The jealousy and anger that consumed me fades, replaced by a sense of duty and purpose.

I feel a new resolve. I will not let their deaths be in vain. I will honor their memory by fighting for the living, by ensuring no one else suffers as they had.

When I exit the cave with her in my arms, Willow is waiting with outstretched arms.

My voice cracks. “What are you going to do with her?” I ask while placing the body in her arms.

Willow’s eyes roll back in her head. I’ve never witnessed a seer’s vision, but I’m certain she’s seeing something about the young girl cradled in her arms.

“Vade in domum taum.”

A sudden, intense light envelops the corpse. The remains dissolve into shimmering particles, vanishing into the air as if they were never there. A chill runs down my spine. The witch lowers her hands, the spell complete, leaving only a faint trace of smoke.

“Where did she go?” I must know.

“Home,” Willow tells me.

I nod and return to the cave for the others.

I repeat the scene with the other two sets of remains. Both are only skeletons, but I carry them out whole.

Willow sees something with each one but doesn’t share her visions.

“Is there more we could have done?” I ask.

“Like what, dear?”

“I don’t know. A memorial ceremony?”

“Their families will honor them. They aren’t alone.”

“Did you learn their names?”

She nods. “I did.”

“But you’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“In time.”

I lace my hands behind my back to keep from shaking the old seer who’s been a friend to my herd for more than fifty years.

Walking away from her, I notice all the other men are in their own worlds. Only Julian seemed to notice what I had just witnessed.

Is the mating call truly that powerful?

Even Jayce and Anjal missed it because they haven’t stopped doing pushups since their mates walked into the unknown.

Do I really want a gift that soul consuming?

Yes, I do.

Peter approaches with hope in his gaze. Hope of what?

“Why didn’t you tell me about your mate?” I demand, my words harsher than intended.

Peter looks away. Guilt hides behind the look on his face.

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