Page 95 of Savage Fate

I gave a noncommittal shrug. “I learned to rely on myself while growing up. No one else was there to help.”

“Not anymore.” A warm breeze tossed his black hair across his forehead. “Plenty of people besides Fane care about you.”

“I can’t afford to become reliant on others when most people don’t stick around for long.” Saint had to know that once we broke this bond, he wouldn’t want to be around me. I wouldn’t expect him to.

“Not shifters.” His fingers flexed on my arm. “Once you become family, you’re always family.”

Saint and I weren’t family, though, and he’d regret these words one day. “Let’s just get to Fane.”

It felt like a lifetime passed before the enormous white mansion with huge columns finally came into view, looming like a gleaming beacon in the night. The bond pulled me toward the porch, and my tattoos hummed.

Fane was definitely in there. And if any witches had a problem letting us in, I’d rip their throats out.

“Why are you growling?” Saint asked, his eyebrow arched.

“Because I’m prepared to fight the whole damn coven to get to Fane if I have to.”

The door swung open, and Zane waved us in. “Fane told us you were coming. I can’t say I’m surprised. Where one of you goes, so does the other.” He glanced over his shoulder and nodded at Saint before leading us into a massive foyer of gleaming white marble and gold accents.

The place was like a freaking museum.

I gritted my teeth as another wave of agony rippled through me. “Hurry.”

Zane nodded and picked up the pace, marching down a long corridor. Every second that ticked by without seeing Fane was torture.

Saint’s arm tightened around me. “We’re almost there, Tate. Just a little longer.”

Zane pushed open a set of French doors, and the layer of magic choking the room almost forced my knees to buckle. Thewitches’ chants echoed against the walls while the candle flames jumped higher.

Fane’s burning eyes snapped to mine, shooting electricity through my tattoos and down my spine. Saint flinched and dropped his arm from around me as if he felt it.

Maybe he did.

Logan hurried in our direction, his face unusually pale. “He needs you, Tate.”

“What do I do?” I asked, knots fisting in my chest.

Sweat collected on Fane’s brow, and he grimaced as the magic continued to pummel against him, trying to break Kaspin’s enchantment. Wind whipped through the room, tossing my red hair back. The three witches looked agitated.

“What’s going on?” Logan asked Jess, one of the witches who attempted to scry for Barric at Corvin Manor. “What’s happening?”

She shook her head, tossing around her blond strands. “The spell won’t release him. It’s engrained so deeply that it’s grown roots in his soul.”

I mashed my teeth to choke back a groan. “There has to be something we can do.”

Lia, the other witch at Corvin Manor that day, pointed in my direction, the candle flames dancing over her alabaster skin. “Are you willing to help?”

“No!” Fane hissed, his fists pressing into the floor as he hunched over. “It’s too dangerous for her.”

I scoffed. “It’s too dangerous for menotto help.” After what happened last night, Fane would never allow himself to be with me out of fear he’d hurt me. I couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t be one of those people who vanished from my life. “What do you want me to do?”

Jess beckoned me toward her and lifted a knife. “Come into the circle.”

“Saint, stop her!” Fane yelled as his pupils thinned into diamonds before rounding back out.

Saint gripped my arm, halting me in my tracks. He winced as my tattoos shocked him, but he didn’t release me. “Tate, I?—”

“Nothing is stopping me from doing this.” My nostrils flared as I tried to pull out of his grasp. We didn’t have time to argue. “This is why I came.”

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