Ithan waited until her scent had faded before letting out a breath. He’d been right to come here, then. If he hadn’t been here … He glanced to the doors again.
He couldn’t stay here indefinitely. He’d need others to keep watch while he rested.
His phone rang from where he’d left it on the stoop of an alley doorway, and Ithan shifted into his humanoid body before answering. “Flynn. I was about to call you.” To beg for a massive favor. If Sabine came here, or Amelie returned, packs in tow …
The Fae lord didn’t reply immediately. Ithan could have sworn he heard the male swallow.
He stilled. “What is it?” Flynn’s breathing turned harsh. Jagged. “Flynn.”
“Shit went down.” The Fae lord seemed to be struggling for words. And to hold back tears.
“Is …” He couldn’t face this. Not again. Not—
“Ruhn and Athalar have been taken prisoner by the Asteri. Dec saw it on the palace feeds. Tharion called from the Depth Charger pod to say Cormac’s dead.”
Ithan began shaking his head, even as he contemplated the risk of discussing this on the phone. Breathing was somehow impossible as he whispered, “Bryce?”
A long, long pause.
Ithan slid to the soaking ground.
“She disappeared. You … you gotta come hear it from Dec.”
“Is she alive?” Ithan’s snarl tore through the rain, bouncing off the bricks.
“The last we saw her in this world … she was.”
“What do you mean, in this world?” But he had a terrible feeling that he already knew.
“You have to see it for yourself,” Flynn croaked.
“I can’t,” Ithan bit out. “I’ve got something to do.”
“We need you,” Flynn said, and his voice was full of an authority that people outside the Aux rarely heard. “We’re friends now, wolf. Get your furry ass over here.”
Ithan peered toward the towering doors. Felt himself being pulled apart by Urd herself.
“I’ll be there in fifteen,” Ithan said, and hung up. Slid his phone into his pocket. Stalked across the street.
A blow from his fist dented the metal doors. The second one broke the locks. The third sent them crumpling inward.
No sign of the Astronomer. Too bad. He was in the mood for blood tonight.
But Ithan stormed to the nearest tub. The wolf mystic floated in the murky, salt-laden water, hair spread around her, eyes closed. Breathing mask and tubes back in place.
“Wake up.” His words were a low growl. “We’re going.”
The mystic didn’t respond, lost to wherever her mind took her.
“I know you can hear me. I need to go somewhere, and I’m not leaving you behind. People are lurking out there who want you dead. So you can either get the fuck up right now or I can do it for you.”
Again, no response. His fingers flexed, claws sliding free, but he kept his hand at his side. It was only a matter of time until someone came to investigate why the doors had been ripped open, but to tear her from that dream state … she’d been so tormented the last time.
“Please,” he said softly, head bowing. “My friends need me. My … my pack needs me.”
That’s what they’d become.
He’d lost his brother, his brother’s pack—the pack that would have one day been his—but this one …
He wouldn’t lose it. Would fight until the bitter end to protect it.
“Please,” Ithan whispered, voice breaking. Her hand twitched, the water rippling. Ithan’s breath caught in his throat.
Her brow furrowed. The feeds on her tank began blaring and beeping, flashing red. The hair on Ithan’s arms rose.
And then, lids fluttering, like the Alpha fought for every inch toward awakening, the lost Fendyr heir opened her eyes.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To Robin Rue: How can I even convey my gratitude for all that you do as both an agent and a friend? （Dedicating this book to you is a feeble attempt at doing so!） Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your wisdom and encouragement, and for being there at the drop of a hat. And thank you, as always, for being a kindred spirit in all things fine food and wine!
To Noa Wheeler: I thank the universe every single day that our paths crossed. From your brilliant feedback to your unparalleled attention to detail, you are the most incredible editor I’ve ever worked with. （And the only person out there who truly understands my NYT crossword and Spelling Bee obsessions.） Here’s to many more books together!