Brax blushes. “I was just talking out loud. My ideas are never good; you should ignore me.”
I look to Talonis. “Is what he said possible?”
Talonis contemplates. “Maybe, if I’ve learned anything, it’s that anything is possible. But that doesn’t mean this is. And if it was, you’d have to get a powerful witch to create one that was used to working with spells and potions. As good as Riven and Ambrose are, they aren’t practiced with either of those things.”
I deflate, knowing it can’t be that easy. Nothing ever is.
“Fuck,” Talonis says suddenly.
“What?”
Talonis contemplates again, like he’s not sure he should tell me.
“Nyx,” he says.
That one word is all it takes. I open my senses, trying to listen for Nyx. My wolf senses aren’t as good as the others, especially since I don’t have control over them. But I listen. I can hear Nyx moving toward the back door. Not his bed.
“Fuck, I should have had you guard him,” I say, but before they can say anything else, I’m sprinting toward him. He doesn’t get to just leave.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going, alone?” I growl at Nyx as he stands at the back sliding glass door. Disappearing into the shadows of the night.
“It doesn’t concern you.”
“Everything you do concerns me,” I huff.
“To feed,” he says simply.
I narrow my eyes at him, studying him like I’ve never studied him before. “Liar.”
“Go back to your mate,” Nyx spits the word out like it’s a curse.
“Where are you going?” I ask again.
He doesn’t answer me.
“You promised me you wouldn’t kill yourself or get others to kill you.”
“I’m not doing either of those things.”
“Or any sort of loophole either!”
He glares at me. “I’m not doing anything that involves my death.”
My heart thunders in my chest. I don’t know what he’s up to, but it’s not good. I can’t let him walk out this door. My instincts are screaming at me. And when I look at him, there is only one thing I can think to do. One thing I’ve wanted to do since the marking ceremony, but I was scared. Scared that I would hurt us. Hurt him. Ruin everything. That I had to let him go. That he wasn’t mine anymore.
And he’s not. He’s not mine. Was only mine for the briefest of moments. He’ll never be mine again.
But…
Fuck it.
I lean forward and kiss him.
For one terrible second, he remains utterly still. He doesn’t kiss me back. Doesn’t pull me closer. Doesn’t even seem to breathe. My touch has turned him into stone.
I can’t read his mind, and he can’t read mine—not without going through Ambrose first. I have no idea what he’s thinking.
Then he shifts.