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“That wasn’t you,” I said and took a step closer. “None of it was you.”

His eyes widened in fear. “I can’t be here…I can’t…” He shifted, turning into his fox, and tore from the room. I snatched the robe Mom held out to me, shoved it on, and went after him. I ran out the door and down the hall, then out the front door.

But there was no sign of him.

He was already gone.

Still, I wandered into the field next door, a place he loved to run when he was younger. I called for him until my voice was hoarse, but he didn’t come. I dropped to my knees and buried my face in my hands and sobbed until big, muscled arms wrapped around me from behind and I was lifted to my feet. Warrick held me close, he held me up, giving me all the strength he could.

“I’ve got you,” he said against my hair.

“He’s gone.”

“He needs time.”

“What if…what if he hurts himself, what if he…”

“Don’t,” Warrick said. “Give him time to get it all straight in his head.”

I wasn’t sure that was possible. Edric chose death over living with what he’d done while possessed, over turning feral. A hellhound, a thousand years old.

How was my gentle, sweet fox going to get through it on his own? Without me there to help him?

Warrick gave me a squeeze as if he were trying to take the pain and hurt from me, and when I was in his arms like this, I almost believed he could. For a short time, anyway.

I lifted my head and Warrick brushed away my tears, then took my hand to lead me inside.

As I turned, I spotted a familiar envelope sticking out of the letterbox.

I slid the thick folded parchment free and opened it. It was from the council, a time, date, and location scrawled on it in blood.

“What is that?” Warrick asked.

“My trial, it’s tomorrow night.”

Chapter 28

Warrick

I held my dove tight, her small body shaking against me. She was fighting the emotions hammering her, trying to be strong. She didn’t need to do that, not with me. They radiated from her, I could sense them, identify them, even if I couldn’t feel them myself.

I wanted to growl in frustration because I didn’t know how to help her.

“I failed Ren,” she said into the darkness. “I failed everyone. I couldn’t protect them, and I can’t protect my sisters from what will happen if I lose my trial.”

Rolling her to her back, I looked down at her in the moonlit room. “Why the fuck do you think you’re the only one who can protect your family?”

She stared up at me. “I’m the oldest, and the trials…”

“You’re still carrying that fucking guilt over what happened at the knight’s compound, but that was not your fault, female. You were up against a twisted fallen angel. He tortured you; he cut you.” My voice rolled out, rough and full of rage. “You endured hours of torture.” I grabbed her precious face in my hands. “Fuck, Willow, stop goddamn punishing yourself. No one here, no one in your family, expects you to protect them. That’s all you. You put that on yourself. When you go out there tomorrow night, you need to do it with that shit out of your fucking head. Thinking about what will happen if you fail will fuck you up. It will take you back there, to a time you felt powerless. And you are not powerless, dove, you are so fucking strong.”

Her eyes grew shiny.

“If you cry, I can’t be held responsible for my actions. You think I’m protective now? Cry in front of me and see what happens.”

She gave me a wobbly smile, one of her small hands cupping my jaw. “Who knew you were so wise. You’re not just a pretty face after all.”

“I knew,” I said, biting back my own smile. “You think I’m pretty?”