Page 536 of Fated to be Enemies

She’s like a survivalist or something. If I found a horde of foodstuffs down there, I wouldn’t have been surprised. She was prepared—that’s for certain. I just wish we’d thought ahead before her mind started to deteriorate.

We should have moved once we realized Aurelia’s mind wasn’t safe. I should have thought of that. I should have thought of many things—should have anticipated the danger lurking just around the corner.

I should never have left her alone to guard Aidan. Aidan feels it, too—the guilt that she was captured while she watched over him.

And that’s where it all went downhill, isn’t it?

The house where I lived the best hours of my life is also a place I hate to the very depths of my soul.

I should have realized Javier was a threat. We should have left that house as soon as the first sign of danger skittered down my spine.

Some soldier I turned out to be.

Evan and West drop weapons in a pile just inside the bedroom door, eyeing me warily. After West kicked the door in and the house went black, I may have gone a little batshit.

Okay, that’s an understatement.

I turned into a feral, territorial mate and phased—full wingspan, fire, the whole bit. Aurelia is going to need a few new lamps.

And maybe a new mirror.

Her rug is toast, too.

She’s going to kick my ass if she wakes up. When. When she wakes up.

I managed to tamp down my fire, but the wings seem to be here to stay. Doesn’t matter.

I fight better with them, anyway.

My wings are different from Aurelia’s. As a soldier, they should match my oracle’s, but because of the forced bond, mine are an entirely different color. Whereas Aurelia’s fade from blood-red to orange, mine gradually fade from coal-black to burgundy. Though mine are clipped as well, they were cut while I was being tortured prior to the bonding.

That was the only part of her pain I did not feel.

Other than that…I remember every drop of blood spilled.

Every cut.

Every slice.

Iva deserves to pay. She deserves our revenge.

Not only because she tortured my mate—no—but for what she has done to our kind. And for waging this war within our own Legion.

Our people deserve vengeance, too.

And they will have it, I think as I snatch up a Morganite kukri, testing the blade in my grip.

Evan eases into my line of sight again, and her wary expression is almost comical on her fully phased face. Her eyes have bled to black, her talons curled around a gold inlayed sword.

She doesn’t try to speak around her fangs because I’ve heard her try, and that is one sure fire way to get me to laugh my ass off. She sounded like a metal-mouthed teenager with a lisp.

West comes up behind her, his arms encircling her shoulders as he kisses her temple. When he raises his gaze to mine, I know…

That the battle is about to start.

That we’re surrounded.

That we probably won’t make it out of here alive.

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