Page 5 of Claimed By Fangs and Darkness
Phineas straightened, but he stopped speaking. He was doing his job. Reporting on the city and all that he’d gleaned from behind his glamour of shadows.
When it became apparent I wasn’t going to speak, Harmony took over completely.
“Is there an emergency that needs our immediate action?”
“Well, I suppose that depends on one’s definitions of the wordsemergencyandimmediate,” Phineas said.
“Sounds like ano, mate,” Blade grumbled.
My gaze flitted from a frustrated Phineas to my protective comrades to the blood witch, who was staring at Evie’s stained-black clothes with rising concern.
It was always a risk bringing mortals into the underground, but we had a wealth of protective measures in place to ensure both loyalty and safety. Only the turned could make it past our magickal wards, for starters. Mortals needed an escort at all times.
Estella was fiercely loyal to the clan. Her entire coven of healers was. Regardless, I hated what they now intuited about Evie. Especially in the wake of Princeton’s assassination, with the culprit yet to be identified.
Evie was one of us now. Even if she’d run from me. Even if this wasn’t what I wanted for her. Even if she no longer wanted to be alive at all.
There was no going back.
I hadn’t noticed Phineas leave, likely ordered away by Harmony. Nor did I register Harmony’s hand on my shoulder, her worried eyes on me.
“Evie’s stable,” Harmony said. “She’s strong. She’s powerful. She’ll heal quickly.”
Estella and the other healers filed out of the room, and Blade shut the door behind them.
I sank to the ground. Blade and Harmony sat with me as I unraveled, for the first time since Princeton died. For the first time in many years—too many to count.
Blade patted my back, this massive brick wall of a man. His eyes pooled with understanding. “Cried like a baby after Princeton died,” he said softly, his lips curving. “Isn’t that what he always said? That if you don’t look like pure shit after, then you didn’t grieve properly.”
Harmony nodded, rubbing her thumb in circles on my hand in hers. “Doesn’t apply to Kylo,” she said softly. “He’s too pretty of a crier.”
My choked sob turned into a bark of laughter. “Fuck off.”
Harmony grinned, her tan cheeks damp. “She’s going to survive this. We willallsurvive this. Because we have to.”
“In life, death is the only certainty,” I murmured, channeling the words of my mentor.
“Another Princeton classic,” Blade said.
The shared laughter lightened the weight pressing against my chest. I felt strangely lucky to share this grief with my best friends, as much as I wished I could shield all of my loved ones from suffering.
But then I studied Evie again, and the weight was heavier than before.
“It’s different for her,” I said, devastation racking through me in waves.
Evie had spent her entire life protecting her brother. Twenty-four years devoted to ensuring his safety and happiness.
“No, it’s not,” Harmony said gently. “Find one house in this city unmarked by grief, untouched by death. Itfeelsdifferent because you love her.”
“She’s one of us now,” Blade said. “She will survive because so did we.”
I shook my head. “This is my fault,” I said, staring at the ornate purple carpet, avoiding either pair of eyes. “I fucked up. I let her down, and she ran from me, and the born killed her only living family—her reason for living.”
Harmony shook her head. “Look at me, Kylo.”
I slowly met her empathetic dark irises.
“Someone else cannot be your reason for living,” Harmony said sharply. “You know that.” She took a steadying breath. “I don’t know what happened, but I believe you when you say you fucked up.” She tilted her head up, holding my gaze fiercely. “You fucked up, so you will take accountability and fix it. Because that’s whoyouare. But theborndid this. You didn’t kill Aisling. Nor Princeton. Nor Idris. You are not responsible for every life in Ravenia. You are only responsible for yours.”
