Gage stared at the strange marking on his eldest brother’s back with apprehension. “So this…brand ties you to Mistress Black’s soul?” Despite learning about Elijah’s sad, lonely life, nothing could have prepared Gage for this twist.

“Correct.” Elijah nodded grimly. “To my understanding, so long as I bear this mark, if Mistress Black dies, I die with her.”

Nik swore. “That fucking bitch did this on purpose. She knew we might prove troublesome once we learned Elijah was alive, so she slapped this blood brand on his back as a means of ensuring her own safety.”

Gage’s thoughts ran with similar theories. “But how did she know we wouldn’t want to join her cause? She’s definitely turned a fair share of our kind over to the dark side. No, I don’t think that’s the reason why she branded Eli. She has another motive, I’m sure of it.”

Elijah’s lips pressed together. Gage immediately homed in on his eldest brother’s discomfort. “You might as well spill it, because you know we’ll needle you until you do.”

“What?” Nik looked between them. “What are we needling him about? If you need someone to rough him up, I’m your man. I’m still pissed at you, Eli.”

Gage’s lips pulled into a small smile. The fact Nik had moved on from calling Elijah “motherfucker” and “asshole” to “Elijah” and now just “Eli” meant he was slowly forgiving him.

Good. Elijah’s disappearance hurt Nik more than anyone else. Nik had always been closer to Elijah than Gage, thanks to their age difference. From the moment Elijah returned, Gage thought Nik’s butt-hurt attitude showed how desperate he was to reunite with Elijah. But he had a lot of hurt to work through first before that happened.

“Can’t say I don’t deserve an ass-whooping.” Elijah straightened. He sighed. “I had…a visitor the other night.”

Nik stopped his relentless pacing to watch.

“Go on,” Gage urged.

“Don’t freak out—it was Mistress Black.”

“Christ!” Nik groaned, running his hands over his face. “It’s just like you to say something like that. Remember the time you broke your leg and were rushed to the ER in an ambulance? You called Dad and were like, ‘Don’t freak out, but I’m in the hospital.’”

“What did she want?” Gage pressed.

“She wanted me to come back, saying the longer I was away from her the sicker I would become. Thanks to this.” He pointed to the brand.

“You’re feeling sick?”

“Yeah.” Elijah shrugged. “No big deal.”

Nik went to open his mouth, but Gage cut him off. “Go on.”

“She proposed a trade—she’d remove the brand if I gave her Verika.”

“What?” Nik spat. “Why the hell does she want her?”

Every muscle in Elijah’s body seemed to tense. “Because she claims Verika is her descendant.”

Both men stared at him as if he’d suddenly said the world was flat.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” Nik said.

“I wish I were,” Elijah replied grimly. He coughed, swallowing hard.

Gage frowned as he watched him. “You feeling all right?”

“Yeah. Just had too much to drink, I think.”

“Buuuulllllsssshhhhiiiitttt,” Nik drawled. “A Johnson having too much to drink? There’s never enough to drink for one of us.”

Elijah clamped his lips together, his cheeks puffing as if he was trying to hold back bile. “Oh hell.” He leapt off the couch and rushed toward the garbage can behind Nik’s desk.

Nik ran after him. “No, no, no! That’s a wire—”

The sounds of retching filled the air. Nik and Gage both winced as Elijah hurled his guts into the basket. Thanks to the wire frame, the vomit spattered all over the floor. Their noses wrinkled as the smell of barf hit them. It reeked so much of alcohol, they could probably get a buzz off sniffing it.

Gage silently went to the mini-fridge and retrieved a bottled water and a paper towel. He handed them to Elijah once he’d straightened. Elijah’s skin was noticeably paler, and sweat had broken out on his brow. His eyes glimmered faintly with red sparks.

Gage’s eyes narrowed. Was that Blood Magic? No other type of magic bore that color, save for Red Magic, but something told Gage it wasn’t that.

“So,” Nik said slowly, shoving his hands in his pant pockets. “That was pretty epic.”

“Are you certain there’s nothing to Mistress Black’s warning? About the brand making you sick?” Gage asked quietly.

Elijah looked miserable. He wiped his mouth with the paper towel and shook his head. “I didn’t want to believe it. I don’t know. I just don’t fucking know anymore.”

Gage! cried Danica through their mate-bond. Something’s wrong with Verika.

What is it? What’s happened? Are you all right?

Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. She’s really sick. We don’t know what happened. One minute she was fine, and the next she was puking her guts up.

Where are you?

Sitting room, east wing.

Stay put. We’ll fetch Heath and come find you.

“What is it?” Nik watched his brother’s face carefully.

Gage glanced at Elijah. “Danica says Verika just got sick.”

Holy crapmonkeys, that was a lot of puke. Verika couldn’t remember heaving that much since having the stomach flu back in high school. It had been going around, and a lot of kids were out with it. Verika had thought she was going to get lucky and not come down with it, but nnnnnnnnnooooooooo. She was never so lucky. Never.

The boys burst into the room within a minute of Alara directing Verika to lie down on the couch.

Elijah went instantly to her side, his face drawn with worry. He ran his hands all over her face, touching the back of her head, gently stroking damp strands of hair back that had gotten stuck to her sweat. “Love, look at me. Are you all right? Does it hurt anywhere?”

Her throat felt raw, but that was honestly about it. “No, I’m fine. Just…well, actually, I don’t know what came over me.”

Nik, who stood nearby with his arms crossed, cleared his throat loudly and cast a pointed look at Elijah, who glared at him.

Verika looked between them. “What is it?”

Elijah sighed. “Don’t kill me.”

“Always a great way to lead in to something you don’t want to tell someone else.”

When he’d finished explaining Mistress Black’s warning, she definitely didn’t feel like killing her mate—she felt like killing Mistress Black.

The brand she’d laid upon him was actually making him physically ill. Well, it was making both of them sick, she supposed. If that lying snake was to be believed, which Verika was inclined to say she wasn’t.

And not only that, but the only way Mistress Black would remove it was if he surrendered to her.

Unbelievable!

She’d sensed there was more to the story than Elijah was letting on, but also knew he’d omitted whatever it was with good reason. No point in questioning him in front of everyone else. She’d do so later on when they were alone in their chambers.

A Blue Warlock named Heath, who looked more as if he belonged on some wilderness survival show on the Discovery Channel than in the medical field, had followed the boys in and looked her over as Elijah explained what was going on. “Actually, you both getting sick due to Elijah’s brand is not so far-fetched.” He inserted himself into the conversation. “From what I’ve seen and heard, Blood Magic can impact a wolf’s mate via the mate-bond.”

A colorful and creative string of curses ensued from both Nik and Elijah. It would be fun to watch them get into a curse-off. “So the sicker I get, the worse off Verika will be,” Elijah said.

“Afraid so.” Heath gave a sympathetic smile.

“Dammit!” Elijah stood with a snarl, balling his fists as he paced about like a pissed-off tiger. He eyed the wall, as if trying to decide whether or not it would be a good place to put his fist.

“Easy there, bro.” Nik stepped in front of him, cutting him off. “Alara just had this room redecorated. I don’t think ‘angry-male-punching-holes-in-the-walls’ is the type of look she’s going for.”

“Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you have any experience with Blood Magic, like how to lift a brand?” he asked Heath.

“Sorry, man. All the stories I know of say a brand has to be removed by the one who did the branding.”

“Which means, either way, I’m going to have to face Mistress Black.”

Verika felt a trickle of fear through their bond as he thought of Mistress Black’s magic, of the things she’d done to him and forced him to do.

Oh, Elijah.

She desperately wanted to go to her mate, but right now she didn’t feel as if she could walk without toppling over. Instead, she seized his hand as he stalked by the couch. “We’ll think of something. I’m not letting her anywhere near you if I can help it.”

“We might not have a choice,” he murmured, staring into empty space with that hard look he got when he was overthinking something. His spine stiffened, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. A second later, Verika’s stomach churned.

“Crap!” she squeaked.

Alara, who had been watching both of them like a hawk—or, more appropriately, a wolf—was already prepared. She shoved a decorative bowl in front of Elijah, just in time for him to puke in it.

Verika grasped her hair and did the same in the wastebasket Danica had set beside the couch. Danica bent over her, gently holding her hair back with a grimace. “That does not sound fun,” she said as Verika straightened with a groan.

“It’s not. It’s absolutely wretched.” She graciously accepted the wet towelette Alara handed her and wiped her mouth. “My body’s starting to hurt, too. It kind of reminds me of when I had the flu.”

“How do you feel?” Gage looked at a ghastly Elijah.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear her over all the vomiting. Did she say the flu? Sounds about right.”

“I’ll get you both something for the aches and nausea.” Heath scurried from the room.

Verika settled back against the throw pillow. “Guess Advil and Pepto-Bismol are just as good for magic-induced flu-like symptoms.”

“You can’t remove the brand?” Nik asked her.

“No. I tried. I think it really can only be removed by Mistress Black herself. Blood Magic is particular like that. That’s why so many people use it to secure top-secret information. Think of it like a magical thumbprint or voice recognition, like what you see in spy movies.”

The room went silent. Everyone wore the same grave, stumped expression.

A moment later, Heath returned with tablets and Sprite. “To help settle your stomachs.” He handed red and pink pills to both her and Elijah. “And good old acetaminophen for the pain.”

“Thanks, man.” Elijah took them both down in one gulp.

Verika would swallow a whole elephant if it would make her feel better. Knocking back the pills and the soda, she focused on taking deep breaths instead of fussing over her roiling stomach.

“Well, we’re not going to get anywhere just standing here stewing over it,” Gage said. “I say we let Verika and Elijah rest for now, and convene again at supper to discuss a plan of action.” He looked at Elijah with a mixture of sympathy and understanding underscored by cold-hearted ruthlessness. “I know you’re…troubled about confronting Mistress Black, but we ultimately need to face her. This is never going to end until we can get rid of her for good.”

“I know,” Elijah said quietly, swallowing hard. Verika swore he got paler.

With a curt nod, Gage clapped him on the arm. “Danica and I will stay until this is all sorted out. Um, get to feeling better.”

Seemingly at a loss for words, the werewolf king walked out of the room, chatting with Heath along the way.

Verika got how he felt. Really, she did. If she’d had a long-lost sister all of a sudden pop up again in her life, she’d be unsure how to feel, too. On one hand, you’d be hurt they’d abandoned you and hadn’t thought enough of you to call over the years. On the flip side, you’d remember all the happy memories you had as kids, and would want to return to those good times.

Though she’d never voiced it out loud, she doubted the brothers would ever be able to return to the level of trust they used to have. Or maybe she was projecting her own feelings onto the situation. Once her trust was broken, it took a long time for it to return.

If it ever did.

For them, at least, she hoped and prayed it did. Especially for Elijah’s sake. She’d watched the guilt and self-loathing for abandoning his brothers eat away at him day by day, hour by hour, and had felt helpless to heal him like she so desperately wished. But someone else’s love couldn’t remove another person’s scars. Sometimes you had to face your demons by yourself if you had any hope of conquering them. Sometimes, you had to let your loved ones fight their own battles, and keep standing by them so they’d know they were never alone.

Danica glanced at the door and back at them. “Uh,” she said, awkwardly running a hand through her golden hair, “I’m going to see if Gage needs my help with anything. Being a queen never stops and all that.”

After Danica left, Verika started to stand. When Elijah took a step toward her, Nik said, “Actually, could I have a moment with her, Eli?”

Alara went still.

Elijah glanced between Nik and Verika and gave a cautious nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

He looked at Verika over his shoulder as he walked away. She gave him a reassuring smile, though her chest fluttered with butterflies.

Alara and Nik stared at each other; Verika assumed they must be having a private conversation.

At last, Alara nodded slightly. Casting Verika and her mate one last look, she wheeled about and followed Elijah out of the room.

Verika tensed as the silence in the room stretched. This might possibly be more awkward than her mother walking in on Elijah naked.

What could she say? Sorry? I’m happy for you? Nothing sounded right.

Damn her inability to start a conversation like a normal person!

Nik chuckled. His face lit up with that carefree smile Verika had so adored when they were together. It was still cute, but it didn’t tug at her heartstrings as it once did.

“I never got a chance to thank you.” Nik came to sit beside her on the couch.

Verika had thought about this moment, had felt it coming. There was much to say between them, and yet there wasn’t. What was done was done. The past was in the past and all that. Still, she found her old guilt returning as she said quietly, “Yeah, well, it’s the least I could do after I…”

Nik took her hand and turned her to face him. “Don’t feel bad. I mean, yeah, I’m not gonna lie. You leaving me hurt like hell at the time. But I see now everything happens for a reason. Every hurt, every trial. They have purpose. You walking out the door and never looking back allowed both of us the opportunity to find our true mates.”

She gave him an unsure smile. He smiled back, letting go of her hand.

Verika studied him from the corner of her eye. It would feel too weird to blatantly stare at him. It was hard trying not to. Here was the man she’d once thought she loved, whom she would have given up everything for at one point in her life, sitting here less than a foot away. A man whose heart she’d ripped out, along with her own, the day she’d decided to end things. A man she’d dreaded seeing since.

And yet she felt…content. At peace.

A long sigh broke her lips, and her shoulders eased as the burden of hurting him finally, at long last, lifted.

He’d forgiven her. Though he hadn’t explicitly said as much, she knew that’s what he meant. The reason he’d wanted to talk.

She was truly, deeply thankful for that. Freeing up her own hurts afforded her the clarity of mind to focus on healing her mate’s emotional wounds. Though it may not be her place, she said anyway, “Are you still pissed at Elijah?” And immediately regretted it when a sour look came over his face.

She bit her lip. Of course he was. Duh!

Smooth, Verika.

“Yeah.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I can’t easily forget or forgive him for ditching us like that, not when we most needed him.” He growled a sigh and rolled his massive shoulders and then his neck. Verika heard a few bones crack. She wondered how much rest he’d gotten since becoming Alpha, and then firmly reined in those feelings. He was no longer hers to fuss over. That was Alara’s job.

Nik’s expression saddened. “I missed him so damned much. Still can’t believe he’s back, like it’s too good to be true. I’m afraid…I’m afraid that if I let him in again, if I let him get close, he’ll leave.”

“Well, he and I can’t exactly live here,” Verika said with a wry smile, nudging him. “I don’t think Alara would go for that.”

He snorted and nudged her back. “That wasn’t an invitation to move in, love. You know what I mean.”

“I don’t think he’s going to run. He wants to be a part of your lives. He wants it as badly as you do. And don’t try denying it,” she added as he began to protest.

Nik pressed his lips together and gave an imperceptible nod. With a glance at his watch and another heavy-hearted sigh, he stood. “I should get you upstairs where you can rest.” He offered her his hand, and she let him pull her up. She’d forgotten how strong he was. How supportive he could be.

Alara was a lucky wolf, but then again, so was she.

A wolf.

Crap, that’s right. Her first Change was coming up soon. How was she going to manage that on top of this illness?

Breathe.

Nik supported her with an arm around her shoulders as he led her out of the room and up the stairs.

“So,” she said softly, leaning into him as her knees trembled. “Just to make sure we’re on the same page—we’re good?”

Nik smiled. “Yeah, doll. We’re good.”

Tears of gratitude stung her eyes. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

At least if she died soon, she’d rest easy knowing one less person in the world hated her. Because once word got out she was a Black Witch, she had a feeling she’d shoot straight to the top of the Underworld’s Most Wanted List…and become one of the Underworld’s most feared—and loathed—witches.