Page 44 of Fractured Souls
“And my other men?” Panic infused my chest.
“Rest assured that everything has been kept and the information you gathered has been retained,” he said evenly, not really answering my fucking question.
“Hard not to panic,” I growled in frustration.
“We don’t have much time. The closer the dark ones grow, the more they’re able to block my influence,” the Cosmos god rumbled in distress.
Shit, how powerful were these fucking dark ones if they were affecting the Cosmos god?
“Lorcan, go to the other prophecy holder. You will find her in the Old Realm of the Ethereal Sea.”
“The Old Realm of the Ethereal Sea…” As I repeated the name, visions of an underground city flashed through my mind. I had never been there, but I must have seen it before.
Maker, this was all so damn weird.
Even worse, in the present reality I could feel not only star calls trying to crowd me but the sick, twisted desires of those in the Kingdom of Day. I felt completely ungrounded, and it was making me physically sick.
I was thrown out of not only the dream but the haze of being sedated, and all at once everything snapped into crystal clear focus. My magic roared to life with a vengeance and I inhaled sharply, my eyes fluttering open to a view of the sky. My pulse was going double time, and I was nearly trembling with the amount of anger and fury coursing through me. My magic was livid at what we had just been put through at the hands of whoever had kidnapped us, and I was feeling the effects of it.
“Breathe, starlight.” Zander appeared above me, blocking out the sky which was fading from a bright blue into a lavender…possibly into a nighttime shade. We were obviously out of the Kingdom of Day, thank fuck.
“I can’t.” I clutched my chest, panic restricting my throat.
“You have to relax, Lorcan,” His eyes were painted with concern, and I briefly noticed there was blood splattered all over him. “I’m trying to block out any negative magic trying to get to you and your siren. Your magic is extremely unstable right now.”
“Because I was fucking drugged,” I growled, feeling my eyes sting with emotion.
“I know, but they’re dead now. You don’t need to worry about them again,” Zander promised, pressing his forehead to mine. I shuddered in relief at the connection thriving between us.
“Who was it?” I demanded, placing a hand on his chest. I couldn’t get a grip on my surroundings, not completely, but I had a feeling we were traveling. Maybe laying in an open carriage, or on top of one like when I entered the Kingdom of Night.
“Hunters for the upper class in the Kingdom of Day. They don’t have a specific name—there are tons of groups like them that search for the rarest of creatures and sell them to the highest bidder.”
“Like Broken House,” I murmured, and he nodded sharply.Fuck that place.
“Thank you for saving me,” I said, clutching his shirt tighter because I feared he would pull away.
“Thank you for trusting me to do that,” he whispered. “I know that was terrifying.”
I swallowed and pulled back only slightly, my eyes dipping to his lips. Not giving myself the chance to overthink it, I surged forward and pressed my mouth to his, not knowing how else to express how intensely the experience had made me feel.
The groan that rattled from his chest as he cupped my jaw and kissed me deeper had me shivering in delight. Our connection lit up in the colors of our magic and our auroras began to shimmer, making me realize that I’d been right—Zander was part of me now, and I didn’t regret it. I didn’t regret it in the fucking least.
When we parted from the kiss, his gaze was a melted gold that examined my expression carefully. “You feel it, don’t you? The mark we’ve left on one another?”
“I feel it,” I whispered, trying not to be obvious about how happy it made me.
“Our souls and magic are intertwined,” he growled softly. “Mine is tainting yours.”
“Tainting?” I reared back and arched a brow. “Why would you say that?”
Zander’s brows dipped. “You deserve to continue forward into the light, Lorcan, I’m far too jaded and cynical to be so directly affecting you, and I worry my magic will do exactly that.”
I wanted to immediately rebut his statement, but instead I inhaled deeply before asking a question. “If you feel that way, why did you mark me?”
My response confused him, probably because he’d expected me to deny it or get upset at the picture he was painting. I could tell how concerned he was at the prospect of the picture he was painting, so I wanted to know why the hell he decided to mark me.
Brand me.
