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Lucas’ arms tighten around me and his back presses against the end of the stack. A tear gathers along my lashes, but I do not open my eyes to permit it to fall. My breath gives me away. The calluses along Lucas’ palm scrape my jaw as he cups it, pressing kisses against both of my closed eyelids. I fall into this gentleness, the heavy weight within me wisping away. I settle back into his hold, and he continues his inspection of the shop.

Gravity tilts, and I peer through my damp lashes. Lucas kneels. His glowing rings highlight the scorched footprint his fingers press against. Spider-silk-thin threads slip from his glowing rings to weave around the imprint, highlighting every line left behind by my foot. The threads stretch to show my mad dash through the shop. I close my eyes again.

I know the exact moment Lucas leaves the stacks and spots the body. He goes rigid, his arms tightening around me until my bones ache.

Lucas presses the side of his face against mine. He’s speaking, and it takes me a moment to resurface from the lulled, fuzzy state I’d slipped into.

“It’ll be okay. I’ll get rid of the body for you. Then, we’ll figure this out.”

Lucas’ warm, sweet affection is more potent than any drug. I kept him at arm’s length for four long years, but now I’ve tasted this forbidden fruit, now I’ve felt his naked body against mine, I can never let that go. Never.

Something uncomfortable slithers within my heart, bringing back the hazy memory of moments ago when the curse almost took me again. My face creases, the dry blood pulling my skin, as I fight to recall what happened after I found the body.

I force my eyes open and turn to Lucas, whose attention is fixed on the mutilated body. Slowly, he takes in the blood-splattered walls and the too-still books. A frown mars his ruggedly handsome face.

Then his gaze meets mine, and all the anxiety within my bones returns in a jolt. We stare at each other, Lucas searching me in that same very slow, careful way.

I find the strength to mumble, “You think I killed him.”

Lucas’ lips thin and irritation pulses in my chest.

“I found him like this. There was someone else here.”

Lucas shifts my weight in his arms. The irritation morphs into frustration, and I hiss, “Spit it out.”

He sighs again, and his gentle tone is kindling to my temper when he grimaces. “I don’t think you meant to. I know you, Tor. You wouldn’t make this much of a mess in the shop on purpose. Come on. Let’s talk about this later after we get you cleaned up.”

“Don’t patronize me!”

I unhook my legs before he can stop me, and my feet thud against the floor. Pain lances through them. Lucas immediately grabs me, like he knew standing would hurt me. I shift to the side, lifting my foot to inspect the bottom. They’re now clear of blood but red hot, like they’ve been sunburned. I release his neck to inspect my hands. Small blisters bud along both.

Slowly, I flex and contract my fingers. Numbness fades, replaced by sharp stings.

My eyes widen as I lift my gaze to behold a burn scar along my stacks. Flashes of a whip of flames pulse in time with my suddenly throbbing head. I press my fingers against my temples. I shouldn’t be damaged by my own magic. That only happens when my Soul Threads are warring with each other, and that issue has been solved now that I’m an Heir. Something else must be weakening my control. Something that feels oddly familiar…

I shake my head and stumble back out of his hold. Lucas’ strong hand catches my elbow to keep me upright.

Swaying, words pour from my lips. “No… no. There was someone else here. They slipped through my wards just like you did.”

His voice is gentle when he responds. “There was someone else here. Now he’s lying dead on the floor.”

My panic builds higher and I snarl, snapping my arm out to point at the dead body. “It wasn’t this fucker!”

“Tor—”

“I am not lying!”

“I don’t think you are.” Lucas’ pain-filled expression is almost too much to bear, but I manage to hold his soft gaze while he speaks slowly. “Someone did slip through, probably after I came inside and went down to help Jinx. Perhaps you were coming downstairs to look for me when you ran into him. The body’s not far from the door. It’s only logical that you handled the intruder and waited for me to help clean up. As for what happened after you killed him…” He combs his hair back. “I don’t know if your memory is… reliable.”

All the air is knocked from my lungs, and I step farther back. Lucas doesn’t advance but tracks me like one who would track a beloved, rabid dog. Bile burns my throat.

“When you came out of those stacks, you weren’t yourself, Tor.” His voice cracks. “You tried to kill me.”

The memory of breaking his shield burns me. I can’t breathe. I can’t think.

Lucas’ hushed whisper breaks a small part of my heart. “We’ll fix you. It’ll be okay.”

My chest is so tight that it’s a fight to gather enough air to speak. “How can the corruption be back, Lucas? I snipped the tether to my curse and when I became Heir, I saw the corruption bubble away…”