Page 102 of Tethered Magick
“I can’t quit now.” I meant it. I had to go through the gate with or without them. The primal part of me awoke, straining toward the grimoire that lay on the other side of the ward like it was a part of me.
Jolon squeezed my hand. “We do this together.” He clasped Kota’s hand on the other side while Syler took my free one, creating a chain between us.
“Together.” I nodded, ready to do this and get home. Suddenly, I had a lot less cabin fever, craving the security of our little hideaway in the woods. But I wouldn’t rest until I’d ventured into the shadow realm and retrieved the grimoire.
Every atom of my being strained to move. The seductive whisper of the grimoire’s power was a siren, and I heard her call, unable to resist.
“Whatever happens, we get in and get out. We don’t know what lies behind the gate. If it becomes too much, you bail, do you understand me?” Jolon squeezed my hand, making sure I heard him loud and clear.
I nodded, and it was the one and only time I was glad we weren’t bonded, because if he could feel the undeniable tugging at my soul, he’d know I’d never be able to keep that promise unless I had the grimoire in my hot—er… cold little hands.
On the count of three, we pressed our bodies through the ward.
A thousand screams pierced my ears like daggers impaling my skull. My hands were ripped from Jolon’s and Syler’s, and I used them to claw at my ears, begging the pain to stop. I fell to the ground, writhing in the gray grass that covered the shadow realm.
A scream tried to rip up my throat, but it emerged as a strangled whimper, though my face was contorted with pain.
“Lorn!” I heard Jolon yelling for me, and it was enough to penetrate the pain. Tears streamed down my face as I pushed myself to my feet, the banshee wails or lost souls finally ceasing as I stood.
A trickle warmed my neck, and I reached up to my ears, realizing they were bleeding. My hearing rang, while everything was muted in comparison. Slightly delirious, I glanced around to find my men, and my eyes widened when I saw them on the other side of the ward, banging on it as they tried to reach me. Power surged and rippled with each hit, but it never yielded.
I eyed them then eyed the grimoire, and took a step away from the ward, venturing farther into the shadow realm.
“Lorn, get back over here right now,” Jolon ordered. “We can’t get in. Come on, baby, step back through,” he urged, and I grabbed at my chest.
The magickal pull was so much stronger on this side, and I stumbled back another step, unable to resist its lure.
“I can’t. I can feel it, Jolon. I have to get it.”
“Lorn!” he scolded. “That wasn’t the plan. We can’t protect you from out here!”
Syler stood next to Jolon, his meaty fists pounding on the ward so hard it rippled and shook, mouthing, “Come back.”
My heart ached, and I was torn between both of my worlds.
“Fucking hell.” Kota ripped at his hair, pacing away from the ward only to turn and glare at me. “You fucking promised.”
“It’s right there, Kota. I can do it. I have to.” I felt terrible that I was responsible for the sorrow and fear etched across his features, and I couldn’t bear to look at him another second.
Because I couldn’t—wouldn’t—change my mind.
“This is bigger than you and me or any of us! People are counting on me.”
“We’ll find a way to save your father,” Jolon promised sincerely. “Just come back. It’s not safe.”
“Innocent lives are in the palms of my hands,” I stressed, the argument a cry from my lips as I began to sob, thrusting out my palms like he could see the blood that threatened to spill like a waterfall from my hands if I failed. “Don’t you understand the weight that comes with that? The responsibility?”
I didn’t have the luxury of running back into their arms and hiding from the world, and the grimoire pulsed, the surge of power reminding me that I, too, was powerful. The rightful heir to theBook of the Keepers. The chosen veil keeper. This book was my destiny, and without it, I had no chance of success.
I’d lose my father, my mates, the very world we loved. It’d be overrun with the creatures that stalked me now. Blood would run through the streets, and nothing would be safe again.
“The life we’ve fought to have together will mean nothing if we let the asshole trying to break this gate apart win. What will be left? Nothing but fear and regret.”
I walked back to the ward and placed my hand on it, and Syler was the first to cave, covering mine from the other side. I could almost feel his warmth through the magickal barrier.
“Go,” he mouthed silently, his eyes flicking over my head to the grimoire. “Go and come back to me.”
A small, emotional laugh—more of a giggle—bubbled from my lips as I nodded.