“It shouldn’t be possible to put a compulsion spell on an Aeternal. You can only do it to Mundanes who don’t have magic.” Silas stared at Atticus. “And I’ve never seen one permanently placed on someone. This is simply not possible.”
“Clearly, it is totally possible,” I said. “I think I can absorb the spell.”
Both men stared at me in surprise.
“I think I can manipulate the energy, unravel it layer by layer.” If I could control other people’s powers, then I should be able to do this. I didn’t know how, but I felt it in my bones. I swallowed down the panic that edged in with that realization—I could do this. The atrocity of the murders Atticus had described didn’t match my gut instincts about the man standing in front of me. If someone had forced him to take the blame for crimes he didn’t commit, I had to at least try.
Silas scowled. “We should confirm that it is a compulsion first. There are people who can—”
I put my hand on Silas’s arm. “Someone did this to him on purpose. I’m guessing to cover up the truth about whatever really happened that night. He could be in danger if that person realizes we know about the compulsion. Whoever really caused those deaths needs to pay for their crimes.”
Silas’s mouth twisted. He stared silently for a long moment before his gaze returned to Atticus. “Take it slowly. And tell me what you’re doing.”
We all moved into the front sitting room, where I sat on the sofa. Atticus took the chair opposite me and sat on the very edge. His rigid stillness was a testament to how tense he was, but he still looked into my eyes eagerly. Silas stood a few feet back, watching us. I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into. There was a big chance I could hurt Atticus just like I’d hurt Titus when I pulled the magic from him. But despite all that, I was confident. I could do this.
I reached over and put my hand on Atticus’s forearm. “Are you sure about this? It’s your choice.”
“I trust you, Maeve.”
I smiled, truly touched by his faith in me.
Silas cleared his throat, his frown firmly in place. “What’s your plan?”
“Atticus, can you tell us what you did again?”
“I am a traitor, who caused the deaths of innocents,” he recited.
The incredibly complex sigil flared on his neck, and I examined it. Just like the orb, it had multiple layers to it. I tilted my head to the side, trying to decide where to start. “Keep talking. I need to tell the layers apart.”
“I accepted a bribe to abandon my post...”
Silas moved closer. “The outermost layer is the element of control. It’s represented with a diamond rune.”
I placed the tips of my fingers on Atticus’s neck and touched the sigil. I focused on drawing the energy away from the spell into individual threads.
The magic unraveled and snapped to me. “It’s working!” Just like Titus’s magic, the energy was off—wrong and oily feeling. The sigil shifted, revealing the layers underneath.
“This is bloody unusual,” Silas said.
I snorted. Understatement of the century. “What’s the next layer?”
“The ninth layer is the element of will. It’s represented by a double chevron design.”
“Can you draw it for me?”
He sat next to me on the sofa, and his warm thigh touched mine. I forced myself not to move away. He held his hand out for mine, and after a small hesitation, I gave it to him. He used the tip of his opposite forefinger to draw a shape on the center of my palm. As his finger traced along my flesh, I could see the design in my mind. I didn’t know if it was magic or just the fact that I was hyperaware of him.
Atticus continued talking. “I accept full responsibility for my crimes...”
I pulled on the threads of the ninth layer. They started to loosen and unravel. The energy absorbed into me and made my head fuzzy.
I pulled back.
“Is something wrong?” Silas asked.
Atticus’s face lit with hope. I could push through a little nausea. I reached my fingers into my pocket to touch Marcel’s charm, and I would have sworn I could feel a boost of power. The reassurance of its presence gave me the strength to keep going. My discomfort was nothing compared to the sacrifice Marcel had made.
Silas drew the next pattern on my palm. “Memory,” he said.
I could see the circular pattern in the sigil. I placed my fingers back on Atticus’s neck and called it to me.
With each layer, Atticus’s aura seemed somehow better... cleaner. There wasn’t a change in the color, but I could feel the subtle difference as I removed the dark magic conjuring.
“The binding layer is next. It’s complex, as it holds the others together. There are three elements to a binding layer—”
“Base, mid-layer and seal,” I whispered. Just like the spell itself. There was symmetry in magic that I instinctively understood.
Silas traced on my palm, and I could see the binding layer in my mind as a three-dimensional pattern. I searched for it within the sigil on Atticus’s neck. It was complicated, weaving in and out of other layers, but once I found it, I tugged gently on the threads. The binding layer began to unravel.
I absorbed the magic, and my vision blurred. I closed my eyes. I can do this. “Next?” I whispered.
“There are six more layers,” Silas said.
He drew the next one on my palm, and I absorbed it from Atticus. Each layer I took away made me feel worse. The energy of the sigil was dark and tainted. I remembered the warm sensation of Atticus’s magic. Silas’s magic was like a rushing river. This was like rotten milk; something was wrong with it. I was more and more confident that whatever had happened to Atticus had to do with the Brotherhood.
“Maeve? I’m not sure you’re up for this,” Silas said. “You should take a rest.”
Atticus’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and his eyes were wide. I could tell it was taking a toll on him too.
I wiped sweat from my forehead. “Keep going. I don’t know what will happen if we stop halfway.”
“The last layer is the base.” Silas drew the shape on my palm.
I opened my eyes and realized I was leaning against him. Atticus had repositioned himself on the sofa next to me. I didn’t remember anyone moving.
I couldn’t make myself sit upright. Without Silas’s solid shoulder holding me up, I would have been slumped on the sofa. I took a deep breath and focused on the base layer, a two-strand weave of energy. I unraveled the threads of magic and took them away from Atticus.
“Done,” I said, dropping my hand.
“Is it gone?” Atticus asked.
“Did you accept a bribe to abandon your post?” Silas asked him.
“No!” Atticus said immediately. He jumped up from the couch and whooped. Dimples popped out on each side of his giant, ecstatic grin. “Fratch, that feels good! I didn’t accept a bribe, and I didn’t betray my people!”
I smiled despite the sick feeling in my stomach.
“Who put the compulsion on you?” Silas asked.
He sat down just as suddenly, deflated. “My true memories of that night are fuzzy. I know I was attacked from behind. I believe it was from one of our own, or I would have sensed them slipping through our perimeter shield. When I awoke, the shield was down and the town was burning.”
“Son of a shite-licking coward,” Silas swore behind me. His chest rumbled against my back. “They left you just far enough outside the perimeter to make it appear as if you were escaping but close enough to be certain we found you.”
“Yes,” Atticus agreed. “The gold was planted on me. I was very confused when I woke up. And then I started confessing to things I hadn’t done. It was a waking nightmare.”
“You confessed almost eagerly,” Silas agreed. “At the time, I couldn’t understand your motivations at all—other than the gold. But I should have trusted your character well enough to know you wouldn’t betray everything you stood for.”
Atticus nodded, accepting hi
s apology.
“The tainted magic belonged to the Brotherhood,” I offered. “I’m sure of it.” Just thinking about the disgusting feel of the tainted energy made my stomach swim. I pitched forward and vomited on the floor.
Chapter Sixteen
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand as five floating discs the size of small plates swarmed the mess on the floor. Seconds later, they disappeared, leaving behind a spotless rug. The technological marvels saved me from an embarrassing cleanup effort, but the remnants of vomit still burned my nose and coated my throat. I felt terrible, and now I smelled like puke. Awesome.
“Is everything well, my lady?” Atticus asked.
“Don’t make me compel you to call me Maeve,” I threatened weakly. My voice was hoarse.
Atticus handed me a glass of water from the table, and I gulped it down. I didn’t even have the energy to sit up from Silas’s chest. The back of his hand brushed across the side of my neck, and I shivered.
“You’ve taken a fever,” Silas said. “Atticus, can you call for a Healer?”
“Ah, you’re being nice to my friend,” I cooed.
“And now you’re delirious,” Silas said dryly, but his eyes tightened with worry.
Atticus moved toward the door.
“Wait!” I croaked. I pushed away from Silas despite my spinning head. “How will I explain what’s wrong with me?” Another wave of nausea hit, and I placed my forehead into my palms and breathed through my nose.
“How can we help you?” Atticus asked.
I felt as though I’d been poisoned. I remembered the warm rush of Atticus’s magic. Just thinking about it relieved a little of the sick feeling in my stomach.
“I think absorbing clean energy would help clear away the tainted magic from the compulsion spell.”
Atticus’s aura flared red. I was surprised to see that it was a brighter shade than before. With the compulsion in place, it had been a dark red, like the last minutes of a sunrise. Now it was stronger, more powerful. The spell had used some of his energy to power itself.
“I’ll do it,” Silas said. “As my Aegis, you already have access to my power. It should be easier.”
If I didn’t feel so awful, I would have been surprised by that bit of information.
Silas spoke over my head to Atticus. “Fetch a Healer in case one is needed.”
Atticus moved toward the door again. “Yes, Lord Commander.”
“Atticus,” Silas called. “For the time being, don’t change your behavior. We’ll restore your standing, but I believe we’ll have a better chance catching the traitor if they don’t know your compulsion has been discovered. We have to be careful about who we bring in on this, but I promise you, we’ll find the people responsible.”
Atticus bowed again and left the suite.
The brilliant glow of Silas’s magic lit the room. I debated over accepting his help. He had tricked me into trusting him because he believed I was part of the Lost Sect. He had tried to have sex with me when he was quite possibly married. Trusting him any longer would’ve been a mistake.
I shifted away from him.
“Maeve.”
My stomach fluttered at the soft way he said my name.
His gray eyes were tight. “Let me help you.”
The problem was, I needed his help even if I was mad at him. He extended his hand, palm up, and I placed my hand in his. His cool palm slid up my forearm until the sigil he’d branded me with rested over the matching one on his forearm. The symbols glowed, warm and soothing between our bare arms.
I gasped as his power flooded me. I remembered his magic feeling like a rush of cool water, but that comparison didn’t capture the raw power that flowed through the shared Aegis bond. The essence of him flavored every part of his energy—strength, confidence, and pig-headed stubbornness. But there was also a softness tempering all that steel-hard resolve, something pure and loyal. The essence of Silas felt good.
His magic surrounded me and flooded my senses. I inhaled it and shivered as it cleared away the sickly wrongness of the Brotherhood’s energy. Another tingling started, lower down.
Silas released his grip, and his hand slid to my upper arm, holding me close to him. He breathed heavily, his eyes dilated. I struggled to slow my own breathing, but my skin tingled with the aftereffects.
“How do you feel?” he asked, his voice like gravel.
I mentally shook myself. “Good. I’m good now.” The tainted magic was completely gone. I felt strong, refreshed, and particularly interested in getting much closer to Silas. My eyes drifted to his lips. “That was...”
Silas nodded, his eyes on my mouth.
I bit my lip and tried to fight back the desire to kiss him. “Does that happen every time?” I whispered.
“I don’t know,” he said. We were dangerously close. “I’ve never shared power through a bonded sigil before.”
“What about the bond-mating Elias mentioned?” The question came out accusatory before I had time to reconsider.
He released me and rubbed the back of his neck. “No. We don’t share power. Not like that.”
“You’re lying again.” My building desire cooled instantly as I realized I’d let him pull me in again.
He shifted in his seat before finally looking at me. “I’m not lying to you. Power sharing is only done during formal rituals. Yes, the bonded sigil we share is traditionally created during a mating ceremony, but...”
“That’s the sigil you branded me with?” I stood up from the sofa. “A bonding sigil? I am not okay with some freaky mating ritual.”
His expression went flat. “The Aegis is also a bond of protection. You haven’t been subjected to a freaky mating ritual. I already have a bonded mate.”
“Aria,” I said.
It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway. Her name had been burning holes in my brain. I had no reason to feel hurt over this information. He’d told me he didn’t want a relationship with me, and I was perfectly happy being on my own, better actually. I wasn’t okay with cheating. And I didn’t need someone like Silas in my life—he was stubborn, complicated, and completely arrogant.
Words tumbled out before my brain could stop them. “Aria is the reason you’re fine with sex with me but nothing more.” My chest was painfully tight. “Do you love her?”
His eyes narrowed. “A mating bond is not like your Earthen marriages. It’s an agreement between Houses, meant to produce an heir and further consolidate power. It doesn’t matter who I love or who I have sex with as long as that requirement is fulfilled.”
An arranged marriage was not a good excuse for trying to cheat on his wife—with me. I couldn’t believe he was trying to justify his actions. “So you just get to have sex with anyone you want, then? Does she get the same sweet deal, or are we into double standards here?”
He was on his feet in a flash. “We barely speak to one another. Both you and she can have sex with whomever you want.” His face grew dark and angular as he glared down at me. “But don’t take a bloody Traiten into your bed. You clearly have your own double standards to examine.”
My mouth dropped open. The accusation was so far off base, I didn’t even know where to start. Mostly, I couldn’t believe he had the audacity to try to tell me who I could and couldn’t sleep with, not when he was married. “You’re the one who tried to have sex with me!”
“You were just as interested!”
“You’re married!”
“I told you, it’s not—”
“Get out!”
He blinked, and his brow furrowed. “Come again?”
I pointed at the door. “You’re a liar and a cheat. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
His face twitched, and I imagined that was about the same amount of reaction I would have gotten if I’d slapped him. My fingers itched to do just that. I took a deep breath and intentionally lowered my voice. I was dead serious. “Get. Out.”
The door chimed, and we both look
ed up as the entrance dissolved away. Tessa rushed through the open frame. She slid to a stop and saluted with her fist over her heart. A man in a blue robe followed her in with Atticus close behind.
“The Traiten said you need a Healer.” She stood between us warily. The tension in the air was hard to miss.
The Healer approached me. “Are you in need of assistance, my lady?”
My heart thundered angrily as I addressed the man. “It was a false alarm.”
His brow scrunched in confusion.
“I’m fine,” I said, allowing a growl of irritation into my voice.
With a glance at Silas, he said, “As you wish, my lady.” He bowed and left quickly.
Smart man.
Silas’s eyes burned with anger. “I’m pleased you’re recovered, Lady Maeve. I bid you gods’ day.” He inclined his head at me then pivoted toward the door. “Traiten, come with me.”
Atticus jumped and rushed to follow Silas out the door. Too late, I realized I had left Silas with the idea that I’d had sex with Atticus. Silas was furious with me, but I hoped he wouldn’t take it out on Atticus. Silas deserved absolutely zero explanations from me, but I would have to straighten things out to keep my secret lessons going.
“Is all well?” Tessa asked when the room was empty and quiet once more.
I sighed. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“We heard yelling from outside.”
I just wanted one drama-free minute in my life. “What did you hear exactly?”
“Just raised voices.”
I chose to believe her. I couldn’t take any more embarrassment. Having everyone know that Silas had tried to cheat on his wife with me was just about the last thing I needed to add to this mess. I moved to the dining room and eyed the food Atticus had brought that morning. My stomach rumbled. The squishy brown cheese was starting to look appetizing.
“Are you hungry?” I asked Tessa.
She picked up one of the purple vegetables and bit off a piece. “I didn’t think anyone was brave enough to yell at him.”
I picked up something green and lumpy that resembled a pickle. I bit into it and was surprised that it was sweet. “We have a habit of pissing each other off.”
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