Page 130 of Broken Wolf Heart
She gawks at me. “Seriously? You’ll let all your compartments overlap? Who are you?”
Dutch snorts.
I shake my head and turn back to Lexi.
She blinks at me. “But I’m still unstable. What if my power isn’t safe to share?”
I soften at the hope and fear that shines in her eyes. “Maybe that’s because you’ve been carrying it alone.”
Mia crosses her arms. “What about the hex witch from the lab? Davina. Why didn’t she say anything about this?”
“That’s a good question,” I say. “One I’d like to ask her myself.”
“We sent Broderick and a few others to retrieve her,” Crow says. “But the house was empty when they got there.”
“What about the guards?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Also missing. No sign of any of them.”
“She must be with Vincenzo,” Razor says.
Lexi exhales slowly. “So, we can’t wait.”
“No,” I say. “We do the ritual. Now.”
“Wait. Ritual?” Mia echoes. “Like with magic?”
“The magic used in the gene serum is likely what’s clouding our bond,” I say.
“Don’t we need a witch to break a hex spell?” she asks pointedly.
“Not if we have a hex blade,” I tell her.
“Fuck,” Razor mutters, and I can’t blame him. The hex blade packs a punch none of us have likely forgotten.
“You’re seriously going to do this,” Mia says, and I don’t miss the way Lexi takes in Mia’s reluctance.
“If I don’t,” I say slowly, “Whatever darkness this is inside me—killing my father will only feed it. And if that happens, I’m not sure I can find my way back to myself again.”
No one says anything for a moment.
Lexi looks at me, really looks. “You’re sure this will work?”
“I’m not sure of anything,” I admit. “Except that you have been the only steadying force since the moment that creature took hold of me. If we can strengthen our bond, I think I can shut him out for good. If we don’t…” I can’t bring myself to finish.
Lexi pulls my face to hers and rests her forehead against mine. “Okay,” she breathes. “Then we do it.”
I kiss her hard and fast. From here on, we give each other everything.
29
LEXI
The warehouse is chilly, thanks to its concrete walls. Or maybe it’s an internal shudder at the memory of all the nightmares I’ve witnessed here. Last time I stood in here, Alvaro’s blood was still wet on the floor. Before that, it was Trucker’s and, from what I’m told, Ramsey’s. This isn’t exactly the place I would have chosen for a magical ritual that will hopefully stabilize our wolves, but it’s the perfect place for bloodshed. And apparently, that’s the main ingredient necessary, so I guess it fits after all.
Thankfully, we don’t use the tiny room in the back where we’ve kept prisoners. Instead, we remain in the larger space where there aren’t already blood stains on the concrete floor and where light filters in through the high, albeit dirt-coated, windows.
It’s the least magical feeling ambience I can imagine. But it’s remote and undisturbed enough that, if this doesn’t work and one of our wolves loses it, hopefully they can contain us.
