“Q-Quinn?” I whispered her name, falling from my lips like an unanswered prayer.
I reached inward, seeking the bond that tied us together as fated mates, heart to heart and soul to soul. It was still there, thankfully. Whole. Unbroken. Unwavering.
I couldn’t say the same for the other side of it. That was buried under a thick, blinding fog. It was hot and liquid like molten magma. It was wild and boiling and unrestrained. It was hard for me to get near, let alone see beyond.
Wrath. Rage. Anger.My dragon noted, growling low with her tail tucked. Was she scared? Of what? It couldn’t be Quinn.
Quinn? Starlight, where are you?
Nothing.
Quinny? Pumpkin? Knightmaiden? Why aren’t you answering me?
Only fire and fury.
Quinn, are you okay? Please come back to me.
As if to answer this last query, I saw the door to the guest room creak open down the hallway. It was too slow and purposeful, making the door creak as if it hadn’t been used in months. It was like something from a horror movie, and I was waiting for the jumpscare that I knew was coming.
Quinn stepped out.
The same instant, Iknew.
Ifeltit.
Something was wrong.
Wrong in way that I had no words for.
Quinn approached, her steps uncharacteristically harsh and her demeanor so different from the norm, just like Cole and Cody. Her six gunshot wounds weren’t bleeding as heavily as theirs, but there was still a steady stream that made my heart sink.
In her left hand, she held something. When it caught in the light, I saw that it was about the size of her hand. It was curved with smooth, clean edges for the most part, but one bit of it seemed to have been torn free from somewhere. It was as red as the finest ruby with a dusting of gold that seemed like it could have been painted on. It shimmered with a fire held beneath its surface. Like it still held her power.
It was a scale.
My mother’sscale.
My breath caught in my throat and stayed there.
No no no no no no no.
This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real.
I brought my eyes up to Quinn’s. And, it only got so much worse.
When Lilah had created the imposter version of Quinn before while she was manipulating my memories, that Quinn’s eyes were cold, dull, bottomless pits. Soulless, there was no life or love in them. But that had been an illusion. That Quinn had beenempty.
This Quinn—myQuinn, who was not supposed to be a trick or figment of my imagination—wasn’t empty at all.
No, she wasoverflowing.
Her hazel eyes had darkened into something scorched and forbidden, like caramel left too long on a stovetop until it was bitter, blackened sludge. Around the edges of her pupil, redbled and smoked from her eyes like an unmanaged wildfire. Her hands shook with a volatility I had never seen from her. In fact, Quinn’s whole body trembled, not in fear but in tightly wound, barely leashed ire. Her muscles strained, ready to lunge and tearanyoneapart. The only thing she sought was ruin and havoc.
Quinn.
My beautiful mate.
What’s happened to you?
