Page 62 of Dragon Unleashed

“It’s just you I need to talk to,” I grind out. “You stole my letter, didn’t you? You opened it, and you gave the photo to Chano. You kept my whole damn letter.” I pace toward him.

He punches the bag several more times, his shoulders heaving with the effort before finally replying. “I did.”

“You’re not even trying to deny it?” I’m trembling with rage, my horns poke out the top of my head, and my fangs descend. I’m not forcing them away. Not for Farrell. He doesn’t deserve that kind of respect.

“I’m not the liar here, Lorelei. I didn’t keep a secret that big from him.”

My mouth opens, and I shut it again with a clack.

He finally turns, and his eyes are pleading.

“It’s better like this.”

As he says the words, the doors to the gymnasium fly open and Zephyr and Naeve rush in. A third figure appears behind them. Silas. Not Chano.He didn’t come.My rage intensifies.

“Better for who exactly, Farrell?” I ask.

“Better for the balance of the allegiance. More importantly, better for you, Lorelei. My father—”

“No! You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. I don’t care what threat your father has made. Screw him, screw you! I love Chano.”

Farrell takes a tentative step toward me. “You’re trying to tell me you feel nothing for anyone else?” His voice drops. “Nothing for me?”

Stunned, I let a long silence fall.How could he possibly know?The guilt sits heavily in my chest. Somehow Chano loving me wasn’t enough. Of all damn people, I’m attracted to him, to Farrell. He doesn’t know—he can’t. He’s just stirring. Sowing discord. For his own twisted games.

I move toward him until I’m peering up in his face. “No, nothing, Farrell. And I wantnothingto do with you, ever again.”

His face crumples.

A sharp pain shoots up my wrist, the skin burning and tingling. I yell out, the noise echoed behind me by the others. My allegiance mark smarts like a hundred hornet stings. The whole mark flickers to a luminescent purple and back to black. I spin on the spot.

Naeve and Zephyr stare at their wrists, shock on their faces. Crap. It’s everyone. Our marks are all flashing like a psychedelic disco ball. It would be pretty, except it hurts. Badly.

“What’s happening?” wails Naeve, clutching her wrist and dancing from foot to foot.

Silas grabs each of our wrists in turn, his shoulders hunching higher each time he peers down at an allegiance mark. He puffs out his cheeks and sinks wearily onto a bench in the corner of a room, grumbling to himself.

“Lachesis,” he mutters. “What next? Clotho and Atropos too? Maybe the Furies?”

He’s lost it. Succumbed to blithering in his old age. I turn to Naeve, but her eyes are wide, fingertips pressed to her mouth.

“The Fates,” she breathes. “When an allegiance mark flashes, Lachesis is weaving another strand into the cloth of fate.”

How the hell does she know this? She answers before I can even ask.

“I was always interested in the Fates, and her specifically, Lachesis. Weaving strands of fate…it’s kinda like my knitting. On a grander scale.”

I roll my eyes and cradle my wrist. Only Naeve could compare her damn knitting to the tapestry of life. This can’t be good. Is this good? I nudge Silas.

“Can you explain? Better than a knitting analogy?”

He shrugs, glancing between us all. “It’s what Naeve said. You rejected Farrell. With or without realizing it, there was intent behind your words, Lorelei. Lachesis is weaving a new fate.”

“Make it stop,” Naeve cries. “Lorelei, undo it. Make it stop!”

I glance between Naeve and Silas as the prickling to my wrist grows stronger.

“You’d need to take back what you said, Lorelei. You’d need to find it in yourself to forgive Farrell,” Silas says.

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