Page 30 of Tethered Fates

“Is exactly what a kid would say,” Kate replies, lip pushed up in disgust when the spear lodged in Vidar melts. The blood is darker than normal, and splashes onto the carpet in a puddle of gore.

“Why were you attacking us?” Vidar asks, voice a pained grunt. His hand drops to the back of an armchair for support as his wound heals.

“Answer us now, or I’ll torture you, and then you answer,” Luc tells our captive. “You’ve already ruined my clothes, don’t ruin the rest of my day.”

“You can’t torture him! It’s against the law,” Kate shouts.

All of us—including our blood mage—eye Kate like she’s lost a couple of marbles.

“I don’t know why I bloody bother…” she grumbles.

“You broke into my home. I’m defending myself!” the blood mage barks out like a petulant prince.

His scent is normal, nothing like the usual rotted stink of blood mages. Even stranger, he doesn’t have a spellbook with him either.

The steady thud of feet meeting the floor draws our attention. Collectively, we turn to the hallway.

A second man emerges from the hazy dark. Every muscle in my body surges with adrenaline, and I release my hold on our blood mage to level a glare on this much bigger threat.

“I’d prefer it if you’d let my friend go.” His lilting Welsh accent should make his lovely voice a song, yet every syllable is cut with a mocking inflexion. Like he’s laughing at you, and you’re too stupid to understand why.

“You,” Luc snarls.

“Bran,” I breathe out, fists clenching.

“Maker,” Vidar spits. “What are you doing here?”

Bran stops to be framed by the doorway. His dark brown hair and pale skin are stark within the shadows pulsing around him.

“Been a while, offspring,” Bran says, the corners of his mouth slice into a grin to reveal bone-white teeth.

Chapter Twelve - Teagan

Waking up is a sluggish thing.

For long moments, I drift. Bobbing in and out until I float back into consciousness, only to regret it immediately. My mouth is pasty, my head full of cotton, and my body aches worse than any time I ate pavement falling off my skateboard.

But…

“You have fangs,” I croak, not needing to crack open my eyes to know I’m in Kai’s arms. Only my big brother would keep me locked in this way.

“Oh, thank God. You’re awake,” he rushes out on a single breath.

Slowly, I push myself out of Kai’s arms, needing to sit up to shake away some of the fog.

“Drink this.” A cup is held to my lips, and I take short sips until it’s empty.

“You have fangs,” I repeat, my throat raw from screaming.

Fuck.

The memories of what happened with Summer at King’s crash over me. Along with finding Kai and Vidar drinking each other’s blood. I’ve never wished so badly to walk in on two people having sex.

I don’t know what to think, or even feel, and figuring out the shitstorm raging through my emotions is useless; my every last neuron is fried. I need paint, distance, a bottle of vodka and someplace high up to drink it.

“I…yeah.” Kai reaches for his ash-blonde braids that cover the left side of his face. “Yeah, little bro. I have fangs.”

My stomach sinks. I’ve known for weeks that Kai’s been keeping things from me. Bigger things than the secret I’ve been keeping from him. Who gives a shit about uni when my big bro is chomping on his boyfriend’s neck?