Tristan

I LOOK AWAY AS GAGE SWAGGERS into the room, cigarette hanging from his mouth. He nods his chin at me in acknowledgment before looking around at the rest of the gargoyles in the room.

“I guess the gang’s all here. Like a bad episode of Scooby Doo,” he inhales, and steps toward Eve, embracing her. “Hey, love. Good to see you again.”

“You too, Gage,” she smiles at him.

McKenna’s eyes narrow at Gage. “What are you doing here, traitor?” she snarls.

Bored, he exhales. “I have a right to be here while you witch-trial Tristan for doing a job you asked him to do.”

Chancellor Davidson steps in and starts the conversation, or argument, where these protectors are concerned. Almost immediately I find myself spacing out, as my eyes shift to the windows, my gaze focused outside. Every so often I catch the usual key words—responsibility, protection, reckless behavior.

“Tristan didn’t kidnap me,” I hear Serena scoff, and I quickly focus back in on the discussion.

What the hell?

“He did. From under my protection,” Rulf barks.

“As I understand it, the Diablo Fairies were approaching. He teleported her to safety,” Chancellor Davidson comes to my defense.

“He could have been the one who orchestrated the entire thing, for all I know,” Rulf continues. “Regardless, he failed to keep her safe when he took her out of my safekeeping.”

“I protected her,” I shout, lunging for him.

Serena steps in front of me and places her hands on my chest, which is rising and falling heavily. “Tristan—”

“I keep her safe. ME!” I pause and correct myself. “I kept her safe. I took her away in that moment to protect her. I did what I had to do to secure her safety.” I shove my hand in Rulf’s direction. “You certainly weren’t going to do it.”

“I fail to see the logic of how taking her out of a heavily guarded protector environment, without permission, is protecting her,” Rulf continues. “Unless there is something you two aren’t telling us,” he taunts.

My nostrils flare as I look at the blank faces in the room.

“Christ,” Gage bites out. “You always were an ass, Rulf.”

“Tristan,” Abby says slowly. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I grit, out of clenched teeth.

Asher and Eve watch us with understanding in their expressions. An understanding that I don’t like. At all.

“The protector bond might be getting to you,” Asher’s tone is low. “It wouldn’t be the first time this happened. Sometimes a blood bond clouds judgment, and—feelings.”

“No, that’s not—” I start.

“I think it’s best that Serena continue here at the Academy for her own safety,” Henry states. “Queen Ophelia has informed us of your obligations to your realm, Tristan, and we’ve agreed to release you of your sentence early.”

My fight slips away. “Thank you.”

Asher dips his head. “Gage explained the extenuating circumstances surrounding the royal guard’s death.”

I slide my gaze to Gage, who grants me a flat expression.

“We pardon you of all responsibility,” the king decrees.

“Again, thank you,” I reply.

Serena turns, standing in front of me. “I want him.”

Callan’s face turns baffled. “Excuse me?”

“Tristan is a protector, my protector, and I want to keep him on in that role,” she explains.

“Serena,” her aunt Eve approaches her as if she were a wounded animal. “Tristan isn’t a full-on protector. He’s also a prince with betrothal obligations,” her voice is gentle. “Even if you, or we, wanted you to remain under his guardianship, it’s simply not possible. He’s obligated.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” Rulf steps in. “I will continue to watch over you as decreed by your aunt and uncle at birth.”

“Tristan will be returning to his realm the day after tomorrow,” Henry says. “With our respect and gratitude.”

“So once again, I don’t have a say?” Serena snips.

“It’s not about say, honey. It’s about royal duties,” Abby interjects. “Ophelia was resolute about Tristan’s.”

The conversation eventually morphs into a strategy session with regard to Asmodeus and protection for the upcoming Summer Solstice Gala, as well as end-of-year preparations for Serena’s protection when she returns home to London.

She and I watch the exchange like a tennis match.

“I have one more item of business before we disband,” Henry says. “What about the protector bond?”

Neither Serena nor I respond. Nervously she twists her hair around her hand before placing in into a bun.

It’s Gage who answers. “As long Serena and Tristan’s bond hasn’t been completed, it should fade within a few months.” He would know. His faded when he lost Camilla.

My eyes roam over her neck.

That’s when I see it, hidden behind Serena’s right ear.

The Sun of Vergina.

My satyr insignia.

She’s been marked as mine.

Serena

I watch the clan talk and discuss my fate as if I’m not even in the room. As usual, no one wants my input or opinion. They talk around me. Over me. Treating me like a child.

Warm fingertips brush lightly over the skin on the back of my neck and I shiver, ignoring the ugly feeling that keeps making itself known, because Tristan’s leaving.

Forever.

“Serena?” My mom’s voice breaks through my thoughts.

“Sorry, what?”

“Dress shopping for the Summer Solstice Gala and ice cream. I was asking if you wanted both. Dad’s buying,” she wiggles her eyebrows.

“Sounds great.”

“Just don’t order watermelon.” My dad jumps in.

I’m tired and emotionally drained, and I just don’t have the energy to argue that fruit-flavored ice cream is a dessert.

I turn and look at Tristan.

His expression is equally sad and remorseful. His gaze roams my face and there is a deep pain behind his eyes. One glance at the torn look on his face makes everything—everyone—else just fade into the background.

“I’m sorry for all of it, raindrop.”

I close my eyes and let myself believe that it was months ago, and we were just two friends giving each other a brief moment of reprieve and comfort from all the dark in world.

Warm lips kiss the top of my head, and I open my eyes just in time to see Tristan turn and leave, taking my heart with him.