Page 39 of Elora and the Crow

“Yes,” Caleb said.

Jonah sighed deeply. “Caleb, you are not in love with her. She’s using her magic to make you think you are, that’s all.”

Caleb’s face went red. “Sometimes you’re such a condescending asshole, Jonah. You need to leave.”

Shock and an overwhelming helplessness rocketed through Jonah. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” Caleb said. “I’m glad you’re safe and that you’re home again, but my life is different now. This is where I want to be, where I belong.”

“If this is where you want to be, why is all of your shit still at my house?” Jonah snapped, his worry getting the better of him.

Caleb’s lips flattened. “I’ll arrange to have it removed fromyourhouse.”

“Caleb, no, that isn’t -”

“Goodbye, Jonah.” Caleb turned away, and with more of that unfamiliar panic soaring through him, Jonah grabbed his arm.

“You’re not staying here, Caleb. You’re coming home with me and- ”

Caleb yanked his arm free. “I am not a child. You can’t force me to leave.”

“Like fuck I can’t,” Jonah growled, reaching for Caleb’s arm again. “I am not leaving you here.”

Caleb’s eyes widened a fraction of a second before something hard and heavy smashed into the back of Jonah’s skull. He dropped to his knees, his ears ringing, and immediately disoriented.

“Wait, no! Don’t do that.” Caleb’s voice was muted, as if he spoke through thick glass.

Jonah groggily raised his hand, touching the back of his skull and staring dumbly at the blood that coated his fingers. His head was already starting to pound, and his thoughts drifted through his brain like dandelion seeds in the wind, impossible to catch.

“Why did you do that?” Anxiety was etched into Caleb’s voice, and Jonah squinted at him.

Fuck, now there were two Caleb’s wavering in and out of his vision.

“I had it handled,” Caleb said.

Jonah reached for his brother, the blood dripping from his fingers and blackness curling at the edge of his vision as he slurred, “Caleb, s’okay, don’t -”

The darkness swallowed him.

CHAPTER13

“Goddamn, this asshole is heavy.”

“Because he’s the size of a brick shithouse.”

Fuck, did Jonah’s head hurt. He kept his eyes closed, trying to orient himself, but it was nearly impossible. He was jostled and swayed as the man carrying him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes made another annoyed grunt.

“It’s your turn to carry him again.”

“Fuck that. I carried him for nearly forty minutes, and you’ve only carried him for twenty, Witan.”

“This is as good a spot as any,” Witan said, and Jonah groaned quietly when he was dropped to the ground, and it sent a blinding bolt of pain through his head.

He could smell pine trees and cold snow, and he groaned again before touching the back of his throbbing skull.

He opened his eyes, staring at the blurry trees and the moonlit sky filtering through the branches. He blinked, and his vision cleared. He forced himself to sit up, breathing through the nausea and dizziness until they subsided.

Shit, he had a concussion for sure. Hell, maybe even a skull fracture. He touched his aching, throbbing skull before staring at the two fae standing above him. “What the fuck did you hit me with?”

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