Page 104 of Tethered In Blood

I nodded once. “It was something buried in the field.” My voice sounded tight, strangled. I swept a hand through my hair. “They were giving sacrifices. It was… too much.”

The weight of it pressed against me when the memories clawed their way to the surface. Every corpse had moved toward her as if they had known her, as though she were the reason they could move. I remember her eyes before she slammed into me. The thing in flames.

“And then Quinn…” The words caught in my throat. My hands curled into fists.

Her blood was on my hands. Her voice was hoarse with pain. The way she fucking looked at me, the way she flinched with her fists clenching the sheets as she yelled at me, at the physician—

“Fuck.”

I shoved myself up from the chair, unable to sit still anymore. The room felt cramped. The air was too heavy. Garrick observed me, pondering whatever sarcastic comment he wanted to say. He let out a low breath. “Saints, Sinclaire…”

My heart was still hammering. My muscles coiled tight as my mind replayed every second. I tried to push it away. The wood creaked when I pressed my palms against the windowsill and angled my body, slowing my breaths. My head was spinning, tangled in anger, frustration, and helplessness.

Until I looked out at the street.

Quinn stood near the edge of the market, flipping through her journal as someone walked toward her from the docks.

“Sina fucking fíriel.”

This fucking woman.

The words rumbled from my chest, burning through my teeth as I pushed off the window. Garrick’s chair scraped against the floor behind me when I yanked the door open, but I didn’t wait for him.

The hall blurred past me as I stormed down the stairs, boots striking the wooden planks with purpose. That bastard was too close. Too fucking confident. And Quinn wasn’t paying attention. Or maybe she was. She might have thought he was another harmless flirt.

My fists curled tighter.

By the time I reached the tavern door, my blood pounded in my ears, drowning out the surrounding chatter. I shoved it open and stepped into the street, my eyes locked on them. The arrogant half-elf had stopped a few feet from her, hands tucked into his pockets, head tilted like he was playing some charming fucking game. Quinn hadn’t looked up; she was too focused on her notes.

But he was staring at her as if he had every fucking right to. As if he knew something I didn’t. He used her to taunt me—to test me. My gut twisted.No.I refused to give him the chance.

His lips curled at the edges, amusement flickering in his gaze when he turned his head to look at me.

I was going to wipe that fucking smirk off his face.

The half-elf pulled a hand out of his pocket and spoke in a casual tone. “Still scribbling away, beautiful?” His fingers brushed against the small of her back, and Quinn winced.

The world tunneled until there was no thought, just instinct—pure, seething, and unrelenting rage. My hand landed on her arm as I grabbed Quinn and yanked her aside, pulling her just out of reach of his filthy fucking hands before my fist collided with his face. Bone crunched beneath my knuckles with a sickly satisfying sound. The bastard stumbled back as blood dripped from his nose. His hand shot up to clutch his face, eyes wide with shock.

I hoped it was broken.

Hells, I hoped I had shattered his entire fucking face.

A few villagers gasped. The surrounding market froze, and the hum of conversation ceased.

I took a step forward, towering over him as he steadied himself and spat a mouthful of blood onto the cobblestones. “Touch her again,” I growled, my voice low, guttural, and deadly. “And I’ll tear your fucking arm off.” His stunned expression flickered. His eyes darted to Quinn, then to me.

The bastard let out a hoarse laugh, blood still dripping from his nose as he wiped at it with the back of his hand. Mocking. “Didn’t think you’d be the jealous type, Fae,” he mused. His grin returned, despite the pain etched on his features.

I didn’t move. Didn’t so much as blink.

Because I wasn’t jealous, I waspissed. Pissed that he dared to touch her, that she had winced and still hadn’t stepped away from him, and that she had even let him get that close. My fists clenched at my sides, aching to finish what I started. To drive another hit into his smug fucking face and guarantee he never touched her again.

31

Eden

ASUDDENCRACKLEoftension set my nerves on alert. “Still scribbling away, beautiful?” His hand brushed against my back. Dull pain radiated from where he touched, and I winced before a force yanked me aside. The elf was gone from my peripherals, replaced by a larger, aggressive mass.

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