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Jasmine had let me go.

It was late afternoon when I got back, but instead of going inside my place, I felt a pull in a different direction, as if something had wrapped around me. The hum of magic. Jaz. I knew it was her, and I doubted she even knew she was doing it.

It grew in waves that took my fucking breath way.

Waves of distress.

I spun around and ran in the direction she was pulling me—the field down from my house where she spent a lot of time. As I hit the edge, I spotted her. She was on her knees, her body bent forward, her hands out in front of her, and she was sobbing. I ran for her, scanning the field, looking for the danger.

As I got closer, I slowed down and sucked in a breath. “Jaz?”

She looked up at me, eyes red, cheeks wet with her tears. “Who would do this?” she sobbed. “W-who. Why?”

In her cupped hands were several butterflies, the mourning cloaks she always had with her, and others. At least fifty, all dead, lay lifeless around her. Fuck. “What happened?”

“They were poisoned. S-someone came here and used p-poison on them.”

I crouched beside her, not sure what to do but desperate to comfort her. “Why don’t you put them down, Jaz. Let me get you home.”

She shook her head. “No, I have to bury them. I’m not leaving them like this. They loved me, Ren. They loved me so much. They loved me like no one else ever has. And now they’re gone. Someone hurt them.”

“Tell me what to do to help, and I’ll do it,” I said, feeling fucking helpless. I wanted to pull her into my arms, but she wouldn’t want that from me. She was my mate, and I couldn’t even comfort her when she was in pain.

She looked up at me, and the agony in her eyes cut so fucking deep. “A box. I need a box.”

“Okay. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.” I sprinted home and grabbed the shoebox still sitting in my room from the new running shoes I’d bought and grabbed a spade from the small garden shed we had behind the main building, then rushed back.

Jasmine was where I left her, tears still running down her face. She was talking to her little dead familiars, her pain so acute I felt it as if it were my own, burrowing into my chest.

I placed the box down beside her and opened the lid. The tissue was still inside, and I quickly smoothed it out.

Jaz gently placed the butterflies in her hands on the bottom, then carefully picked up one closest to her off the ground.

“Can I help?”

She nodded.

I watched how she did it and tried to be just as careful as her. When the bottom was covered, I folded over another layer of tissue and we slowly collected the rest, until we had them all. She placed the lid on and picked it up. I followed her across the field, and she pointed to a spot by an oak tree. I dug the hole she needed, and she placed the shoebox inside and covered it with dirt, then she placed her hand on top and closed her eyes.

When she looked up at me a minute later, her lip was quivering, but there was anger in her eyes now as well. “I won’t let anyone else hurt them.”

I swallowed hard, struggling with seeing her like this and not sure what the fuck to do. “What do you have in mind?”

“I’m warding the field,” she said and strode to the edge.

I went after her. “You can’t do that, Jaz. This place belongs to someone else, you ward it and things will get messy.” No one knew who owned it, but it’d never been fenced and no one had ever seemed interested in building on it. Which meant anyone could wander onto it. But it was still someone else’s property.

Another tear streaked down her face. “What if they come back, what if—”

“If they come back tonight, I’ll stop them,” I said. “I’ll stay there. I’ll make sure they’re safe.”

She blinked up at me, her eyes like glittering emeralds. “You’d do that?”

I tucked her hair behind her ear. “Of course.” Usually when I touched her, she’d shiver or her eyes would get this soft, dazed look in them. Now there was only gratitude there, pain, but nothing else, not for me, not anymore. Agatheena was right.

Then she collapsed, her grief too much. I scooped her up before she could hit the ground and pulled her into my chest. I pressed my lips to the top of her head. “I’ve got you, butterfly. Let it out. Let the pain out.”

She sobbed against my shoulder, and I felt the turmoil and pain rolling off her, slicing through me. That the mother would do this to her, give her familiars like this, so fragile and unable to live a long life, that Jasmine would love with her whole heart only to get it broken over and over again was cruel. It was fucking torture, and I hated that fucking evil bitch for it.