Page 97 of Tethered In Blood

My glare flicked back toward Quinn and the bastard standing too close to her. I couldfeelthe weight of that fucker’s gaze, the slow drag of his eyes over her features, the hunger concealed beneath his measured expression. “Like he wants to eat her,” I bit out, the words coated in bile.

Garrick laughed. That smug, irritating laugh made my fingers curl into fists. It was mockery—a pointed jab that sank right beneath my ribs, knowing which nerve to strike all too well. “You mean the way you look at her?”

I shot him a glare so fast that my neck popped. My pulse pounded in my skull. Garrick only grinned wider, leaning back as if he expected me to swing at him.

Saints help me; I almost did.

Quinn, unaware of the storm brewing inside me, flipped open her journal. Her focus shifted to the scratch of charcoal against the pages as she wrote.

Garrick hummed beside me, studying the scene with amusement before he stepped forward with an all-too-pleased grin. “Seems relative enough to go…intervene,” he mused, far too entertained by whatever drama he believed was unfolding. I scowled, following behind him. I couldn’t stand there watching them any longer.

“Made a new friend, Freckles?” Garrick’s voice was casual, but the glint in his eyes was anything but. He stepped beside her, waiting for a reaction. Quinn ignored him, but her grip on the journal tightened. “And here I thought you only blushed for me.” That earned him an elbow straight to the ribs.

Garrick coughed, laughing through a pained exhale, but my attention had snapped to Quinn. The corner of her eye narrowed. Her lips pressed together in that near-imperceptible wince, which she seemed to believe neither of us caught. I reached out and grazed her arm with a cautious touch. “Careful, Dilthen Doe,” I warned.

The half-elf’s attention shifted to me. His smile remained, but his eyes sharpened as he assessed me. He had understood Sindarin, had heard the warning in my tone, and had seen how my hand still rested against her arm, how I didn’t move away.

Recognition flickered across his features. He wasn’t as composed as he wanted to be for his smug posturing. His stance shifted with the slightest change in weight, revealing his discomfort.

Garrick let out a low chuckle. “Well,thisis fun.”

Quinn kept writing as though she hadn’t been looked at as though she were a prize. Like she hadn’t just fucking blushed for him. The muscles in my jaw clenched again, my teeth grinding together so hard that they ached.

Garrick had been right. And I loathed that.

Quinn looked up at me with steady, amber eyes that searched mine. I held her gaze for a breath, waiting for her to speak. She hesitated, tore her eyes away, and lifted her journal between us, cutting off whatever I might have seen in them.

My brows furrowed as I forced myself to focus on the page. The sketch of the trinkets dominated the space, drawn with the same precise detail she always put into her notes. But my focus landed on the small, scrawled words surrounding it.

More than warding charms?

Symbols match the ones in Vaelwick.

Fish bones. Protection or offering?

Why the docks? Why only there?

My eyes narrowed as I scanned the questions scribbled around the drawing, my mind circling her conclusions. She was right. The connection between Vaelwick and Ruvenmere wasn’t just a coincidence. A pattern was forming in the shadows, threading through villages that whispered of ghosts.

Her focus was elsewhere when I glanced at her, as if she expected me to brush past it. That unsettled me more than it should have. Ishouldhave pushed her to rest instead of letting her run herself raw over a mission we weren’t even halfway through solving, one that made little sense for us to be summoned in the first place, but I didn’t because I understood now.

I didn’t know what horrors awaited her when she let her guard fall, when she closed her eyes and let the silence creep in, but I knew they were wicked enough. Distressing enough that she would rather run herself ragged than be alone with them.

Feeling their weight, I dragged my knuckle over the words written at the bottom of the page. “The docks,” I murmured. “We need to go there after sundown.” Quinn’s fingers tightened around the journal. She didn’t meet my eyes, but she nodded.

Beside her, Garrick hummed, shifting his weight, his ever-present grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Are you guys done flirting?” he drawled in smug amusement. “Wanna fill me in on what’s happening?”

Quinn tensed beside me. Her fingers twitched against the journal’s worn cover, her shoulders straightened, and she looked like she wanted to throw the damn book at his head. I wanted her to do it.

The half-elf was still standing in front of us, watching and listening. His pointed ears twitched as his gaze flicked between Quinn and me, measuring what he saw. My jaw ticked. I relaxed my posture, but his stare irked me like an itch beneath my skin.

Dragging my gaze away from the journal, I huffed and shot Garrick a flat look. “We’re going to the docks after sundown.”

The half-elf perked up, tilting his head. “Why wait til’ dark?”

Garrick mirrored his expression, crossing his arms. “Yeah, why wait? Wouldn’t it be smarter to investigate now? While we can see whatever the hells we’re looking for?”

Quinn spoke, her voice level but laced with exhaustion. “Because whatever is causing this isn’t going to be standing in plain sight, waiting for us.” She flipped the journal closed and tucked it under her arm. The movement was precise and too controlled. “The villagers only report seeing things at night—the voices, the figures on the water. The pattern matches Vaelwick. If we’re to understand what is happening, we must witness it ourselves.”

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