“Without you? Every day. I have no one to blame but myself for”—Lucan stumbles on his words—“for Mathias violating you.”
“He hurt you, too,” she breathes, her eyes nearly fluttering closed as her energy wanes even more. “Until today, I never imagined how deeply. Had to perform thehelbreselespell.”
“It nearly killed you.Inearly killed you.” Lucan leans over her, stroking her pale curls. “Yet rather than teleporting away, you stayed and helped me.”
Silently, I agree with the unspoken part of Lucan’s observation; Anka’s actions reveal strong feelings for her former mate.
But when her eyes flutter open again, she eases away from him, looking spent and empty.
Anguish overtakes Lucan’s expression, and my heart breaks for him. Though this terrible tragedy isn’t mine, I wish like hell my brother could have a happy outcome. After what he and Anka endured, surely they deserve as much.
But magickind isn’t a Hallmark world.
“I had to make things as right for you as I could,” she slurs. “I owed you that. But now I must go.”
“No!” Lucan pleads, looking somewhere between blindsided and helpless. “Don’t. Please. Stay. Try—for us. I’ll care for you. I’ll?—”
“Expect everything to be as it was. But nothing will be again.” Her mouth trembles as she begins to sob. “Lucan, I’ve experienced too much, and I’ve willingly lain with Shock. We can’t sweep that under the rug. He’ll always be between us. Maybe he always was.”
Lucan looks like he wants to refute Anka—and can’t.
“In time, we could recover.”
“I’ll always treasure our century together. But Mathias…” Anka shakes her head. “You’re a wonderful man, Lucan, but youmust see that I’m ruined. I won’t make you endure that,” Anka murmurs, then turns to Bram. “Will you take me back to Shock?”
Though Lucan argues and begs, Anka sends him a contrite stare. Then, because her energy is nearly drained, she allows Bram to teleport her out.
In the terrible silence that follows, Sydney lingers, looking as if she wants to say something soothing, but she has no idea what. Her face tells me she finally understands my reluctance to mate. I couldn’t have illustrated it more clearly if I’d drawn her a picture.
Finally, she leaves with Ice, Sabelle, and Duke.
Then I am alone with Lucan, who quickly decides his best friend is a bottle. I doubt I’ll see many sober moments in his future.
As I watch my brother drown his sorrows, the weight of everything that’s happened settles on me like a suffocating blanket. The devastation on Lucan’s face, the brokenness in Anka’s eyes—it’s all a stark reminder of the cruel tricks magic can play. And Sydney…the dawning comprehension on her face as she left twists something inside me. I want to run after her, to explain, to make her understand. But how can I, when I can scarcely wrap my head around it?
This is the reality of our world. This is what I’ve been trying to protect her from. And as I watch my brother fall apart, I can’t help but wonder: am I strong enough to resist the pull of magic, of Sydney, knowing it could all end like this?
Chapter
Fifty-Nine
Hours pass. Shadows creep in as I study my big brother, cradling his head in his hands, a mostly empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table in front of him. I have no idea what to say. Platitudes likeall will be wellandtime heals all woundsseem inane and insulting.
I’m not sure he’ll ever be right again.
“Don’t just stare,” Lucan growls. “Say something.”
“I’m not sure anything will help.”
“I haven’t seen you in over a decade. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I ever would. I’m surprised you’re here.” Lucan laughs bitterly. “One of many. When did you arrive?”
“Shortly after your mate mourning began.”
A reluctant smile tugs at Lucan’s mouth before he takes another swig. “Bram come after you?”
“Sabelle, on Bram’s orders.”
“Bet you hated returning.”