When I open my eyes this ti, Lisa's napping on the couch. Grimoire, in book form, is on the ground before .
Seeing him in that form, a question cos to my mind—sothing I'd forgotten to ask him in that strange ntal-magical dinsion. Why did he send to Magister Orion and the Fae Ward, if he had little respect for wizards?
That thick cord within , the new bond linking with Grimoire, vibrates intensely, seeming almost irritated. Without thinking, I stroke the cover of the book, trying to calm down this dog-like spirit within.
Once my fingers contact the cover, I can hear his voice inside my head, sounding like a sulky child and not a hulking spirit with flas covering his skin. Odd how they didn't burn , though.
I have respect for wizards, he snaps peevishly. They're just idiots sotis.
Yeah. So respectful.
Respect cos in many forms.
I laugh. My mind has been so quiet without Selene; having Grimoire in it is a different feeling, but it helps soothe the loneliness.
Lisa jerks upright at the sound of my voice. "Ave?" Her groggy voice makes smile.
"Hey. You look tired."
"Sorry. Just dozed off while thinking…" Her eyes drop to the book I'm touching. "Is that it?! Did you do it?"
Bouncing off the couch, she practically slides across the floor, up on her hands and knees over it. "It even looks old and magical. Holy shit, Ava. You did it!"
Tell her to stop breathing on .
Ignoring Grimoire, I take a mont to reach out with my senses, trying to see if I can get even a glimr of Selene anywhere.
Do you need my help?
Glancing at the book beneath my fingertips, I raise my brows. "Are you able to?"
"Able to what?" Lisa asks, reaching out to run a finger down the worn leather cover.
Tell her to stop touching and I will.
"He doesn't want you to touch him."
She jerks her hand back, mortified. "Oh. I'm sorry."
If you pour magic into our bond, I can amplify.
Okay. I get the English, but it's like reading directions putting together a dresser. They make no sense without pictures.
Just do it.
Closing my eyes—
Why do you do that? You can't see if your eyes are closed.
Snapping my eyes open, I scowl at the book. "It's so I can concentrate."
Can't you concentrate with your eyes open?
"It helps when they're closed."
But then you can't see.
"Are you talking to the book?" Lisa asks hesitantly.
I nod. "He's in my head, as long as I'm touching the book, I think."
As our bond strengthens, I will be able to speak to you at longer distances.
I'm not sure if that's a great idea. I wonder how he and Selene will coexist in my head. It feels like a pretty small space for three minds.
It is remarkably small, he agrees, in a tone that sounds distinctly derogatory.
It is, he confirms.
Scowling, I yank my hand off the book, only for that new connection inside of to bounce around in frustration.
"Not if you're going to insult ," I warn him.
It stills, with the distinct sense of remorse. It's odd how I can sense it so clearly.
A sharp knock at the door startles from my thoughts. I glance at Lisa, who shrugs, looking as confused as I feel.
"I'll get it," I say, pushing myself up from the floor, sensing the frustration from Grimoire when I leave.
I open the door just enough to peek out, surprised to see Vanessa standing there. Her usually calm deanor is gone, replaced by a harried expression that makes my stomach twist. The guards outside my door are also gone.
"Vanessa? What's wrong?"
She shakes her head, her eyes tight around the corners. "You need to co with . Now."
The grim tone of her voice stops any questions from forming on my lips. Whatever's happening, it's serious.
"Lisa," I call over my shoulder, "I'll be right back."
I don't wait for her response before stepping out and closing the door behind . Vanessa's already moving, and I hurry to keep up with her brisk pace.
As we head in the direction of the hospital, my heart clenches. Lucas. It has to be Lucas. What's wrong? He was fine just a while ago.
The bond with Grimoire vibrates with frustration. Right, I left him behind. I'm sorry, I think, hoping he can hear even though I'm not touching the book. I'll be back soon.
I'm not sure if he receives the ssage, but the vibration settles sowhat. It's fascinating how different Grimoire's presence feels compared to Selene's. Selene, while having her own space in my head, is also an extension of myself. Grimoire feels distinctly separate, the bond between us similar to the fated bond in my chest, but different even from that.
We pass the front desk without challenge, a strange tension in the air. There's sothing odd in the way people look at , and I realize after a mont that everyone's female.
Where did all the n go? There were plenty of male staff this morning.
Stranger and stranger still.
Vanessa knocks on Lucas' door and opens it, ushering inside before closing the door behind .
Bizarre.
My eyes are imdiately drawn to the bed where Lucas lies.
He's awake, propped up against a mountain of pillows. His face is pale, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. But it's his eyes that catch my attention—they're fever-bright, locked onto mine with a hunger that's familiar.
"Lucas?" My heart beats faster, wondering if he's finally recognizing .
"Ava," he says, but the intonation is all wrong. It doesn't sound like how he usually says my na.
So, not my Lucas. But then why is he staring at like this?
"Are you oka—"
Before I can finish my question, he lunges off the bed. His hands grab my wrists, slamming back against the closed door. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs, and for a mont, I'm too stunned to react.
"Lucas, what's wrong?" My heart pounds like a sledgehamr in my chest. This isn't like him at all. Even without his mories, he's never been violent toward .
His face is inches from mine, golden eyes wild and feverish as they roam over my features. Sweat trickles down his forehead, and I can feel the heat radiating off his body. His hands on my wrists are scorching, like brands against my skin.
"Why?" he asks, his voice rough and desperate.
Confused, I try for reason. "Why what? Lucas, you're burning up. We need to get you back to bed. You're sick." Wolves don't get sick. Why is he so hot?
But he doesn't move. His grip tightens, and I wince. "Lucas, you're hurting ."
He doesn't seem to hear . His eyes bore into mine, searching for sothing. "What did you do to ?!"
"Do what?" I ask, bewildered.
His scent envelops , familiar yet different. There's an undercurrent of sothing wild, primal. Intense.
Dangerous.
"You did this," he growls. "I can feel it. Ever since you ca here, it's been getting worse. Your scent—what's wrong with it?"
I shake my head, fear creeping up my spine. I know my mate would never hurt . The trouble is—he doesn't feel the mate bond like I do. Not anymore. "I didn't do anything, Lucas. I swear.
You're not well."
Where is Vanessa? She should be in here.
He leans in closer, his nose skimming along my jaw, down my neck, to nuzzle against the crescent scar beneath my ear. I shiver, caught between fear and an unwelco spark of desire. This is wrong. So wrong.
But the fated bond in my chest is ecstatic, begging to press against him.
"Your scent," he murmurs. "It's driving crazy. I can't think straight. I can't sleep. I can't eat. All I can think about is you."
My breath catches in my throat. Is the mate bond reasserting itself?
"Lucas," I say softly, trying to keep my voice calm. "I know you're confused, but it's probably the fated bond between us. It isn't sothing I did to you; it's just us. You're my mate. And I'm yours."
He pulls back slightly, with a soft growl. "Mine?"
But then he shakes his head. "No," he says. "This isn't just a connection. This is... more. It's like you've crawled under my skin.
Like you're in my blood. What kind of magic is this?"
Magic? My heart skips a beat. Is this to do with my—
He dives against my neck again, breathing deep and growling. "You sll like an oga."
My heart trips.
Oga.
Shit. Of course.
There were no guards outside my door. No males in the hospital. Every male within range has probably been dragged away. No wonder Vanessa looked so stressed.
How stupid am I? I must be going into heat. He'd ntioned my strange scent earlier. I haven't had any suppressants.
Grimoire had even ntioned my fever.
"Lucas, I need you to listen to ."
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