By the time I dress and bring some semblance of order to my hair, Ice steps from the bathroom, freshly showered. He prowls around the room and grabs his shredded camo trousers from the floor with a curse.
Wizards are notoriously poor with domestic magic; cooking, mending, and cleaning spells are often beyond them. Ice is seemingly no exception, given the regretful way he eyes the garment. Despite the tension between us, the frustration on his face tugs at my heart.
Quickly, I retrieve my wand and wave it in the direction of his trousers. Moments later, they look new—tears mended and bloodstains gone.
His gaze bounces up to me, gratitude shining there. “Thank you. You’re quite good at that.”
I shrug and shove my feet into trainers. “Loads of practice. I need to see if Bram is awake, but… No matter what happens, whether you escaped because of Shock’s assistance or the Doomsday Diary’s magic, I’m beyond glad you’re here and safe.”
Before I give into my heart and say something impulsive, I turn away. Ice wraps his hand around my shoulder. His touch is a question, a request. It’s nearly my undoing. After this morning, I hoped… But I was foolish. Fate, culture, and family will always stand between us.
“You wrote in the Doomsday Diary for my safe return?”
I nod, knowing the next question he’ll ask. I can’t give him less than the truth. “It was my heart’s deepest desire. I wanted you here with me. I still do.”
Ice closes his eyes and shakes his head. “So fucking futile.”
“Why are you so certain my brother will refuse?”
Ice sighs. “There’s no point in dredging up the past when it won’t change the future, and I don’t want you to think ill of the brother you’ve always idolized. The way he treated me is of no concern to you.”
Shirtless, Ice shoulders his way past me, his back nearly healed. Then he stops and glances back, his face softening. “Go see Bram. I’ll be beside you if you need me.”
Then he leaves the room. I follow, dread and uncertainty brewing in my gut. My brother’s health, my relationship with Ice, the threat to magickind—so many consuming issues assailing me at once. But I must endure it and press on. Time to use my spine…
I hurry to the closed door of Bram’s quarters. Ice steps aside as I push it open. Then he follows me inside.
Bram lies still, eyes closed. But the black cloud shrouding him is blessedly gone.
So is the dark healer.
Hope surges, and I look to the other wizards in the room. Duke reclines in the wing chair in the corner while Lucan perches on the edge of the bed. “Has he awakened yet?”
Lucan doesn’t answer, merely studies me before sliding a suspicious stare to Ice. His blue eyes narrow. So much has happened since Ice Called to me… I forgot that none of the other Doomsday Brethren know. But one glance at Ice’s magical signature shouts the truth. Coupled with the fact we must both be glowing with energy… I wince.
My brother’s best friend leaps to his feet. “You fucking bastard! You dare touch Sabelle?”
Ice rushes to the middle of the room, positioning his body protectively between Lucan and me. “At least I wasn’t a dangerous madman mourning another witch while I had Sabelle in my bed. I didn’t steal her energy while nearly strangling her. I would never hurt or use the princess.”
The magical world is falling apart, and the last thing we need now is infighting.
With a huff, I try to wedge myself between the two big wizards. If I don’t, I fear they’ll start trading blows or hexes. Ice merely nudges me behind him again, this time issuing me a side-eyed warning.
Lucan scoffs. “Don’t pretend you’re noble or heroic. Clearly, you’re extracting revenge against Bram. Are you hoping to crush him by taking his only sister? Tit for tat?”
Ice has a sister? And Bram somehow took her? I don’t know anything about this. Why? And what else don’t I know about the brother who raised me?
Beside me, Ice goes deadly still, his entire body radiating lethal tension. When he speaks, his voice is barely controlled fury. “My sister is dead, MacTavish. She has been for two hundred years. And your precious Bram knows exactly why.”
“Answer him, Rykard. I’d like to hear your response to that question myself,” drawls a familiar, unexpected voice.
I whirl to find a familiar pair of blue eyes wide open. “Bram!”
Relief lifts a thousand pounds off my psyche. I shoulder my way past Ice and run to Bram, throwing my arms around the sibling who’s always represented safety and comfort. He clutches me protectively…but I feel him glaring daggers over my shoulder at Ice. The malevolence of that stare is like toxic radiation poisoning the room.
“Are you all right? Feeling better?” I ask.
“I’m alive,” Bram snaps before he sneers at Ice. “Answer Lucan. This, I want to hear.”
