Page 10 of Heir of Broken Souls

“He promised to never leave me.”

My heart pinches.

Without a word I wrap his arm around my shoulder, despite him towering over me. He leans against my body and allows me to support his weight as he sways and stumbles. Leading him down the corridor, I kick open the bathroom door with a grunt and help Axel into the tub.

With a thought, the tub fills with steaming water. It never takes much effort to summon my power these days. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’m usually fighting to will it away. Trying to control the tidal wave that threatens to swallow me.

These are the increments of power I let out, just small bursts. It still isn’t enough.

The water is clear at first and then slowly grows dull and gray with the muck and blood washing away from Axel’s clothing. I dip my fingers in to check the temperature and frown. It’s just right. If I didn’t know any better, I would swearI’mthe one in control of my magic.

But that’s…preposterous.

Axel’s head lolls from side to side on the edge of the porcelain tub.

My head and my heartare always at war with one another. Constantly battling with how to handle my emotions. My heart raging to be felt and my mind screaming for quiet. Yet it’s never as intense as when I’m standing before Axel, confronted with the repercussions of Peter’s actions.

The night we lost Ace, Axel was inconsolable. I’ll never forget the moment Axel clutched his chest, where the bond had been torn, and wailed as the other half of his soul died. Knox had to send for an earth Fae to sedate Axel because of how much distress he was in. He left us no choice.

He was subdued for ten days straight because every time he woke, he would scream in agony. On the tenth day, he finally grew quiet. But not in the contemplative way we all assumed. No, this was the silence that stole Axel from us.

Later that evening, he took off without notice, only coming back thirty-three hours later drunk out of his mind and sobbing for his brother.

And so the pattern began.

There’s no point asking him where he goes. When he’s sober enough, he’s off trying to track Hazel down with Zephlyn and when his leads dry up, he turns to the bottom of a bottle.

If he’s drunk, he hasn’t found Hazel.

When there’s more grime than water, I picture emptying the bath, holding onto the reins of my magic tightly. I grit my teeth as it tries to get away from me, writhing and searching for an outlet. Eventually, it complies, and I replace the tub with clean water and begin the task of trying to scrub away Axel’s sins. I lather my hands with shampoo and start with his hair, not trying to be gentle. He won’t remember this in the morning.

Boots sound in the hall, quick steady steps that make me turn when they halt at the open bathroom door.

Harlow stands in the doorway, her face as cold and passive as ever. Her brown eyes flick to Axel’s drunk form in the tub, briefly flashing red, before they turn back to me and drop to the black blood splattered along my skin and leathers.

“Figures,” she says dryly.

Clenching my jaw, I count to ten before I say warily, “You could help, you know.”

“I know.” She clicks her tongue. “Unlike you lot, I don’t care to enable this sordid behavior.”

“Then leave,” I say tersely.

The half-breed witch no longer frightens me. Enabling or not, I’m just glad he finally came home.

At that moment though, Axel begins to heave. Cursing, I whip his head to the side, shoving my hands under his shoulders and hefting his upper body over the side of the tub just in time for the vomit to spray the bathroom tiles. I roll my eyes at the sound of Harlow’s retreating footsteps, but guilt furrows deep in my belly a minute later when she appears next to me again with a wet washcloth.

“Thank you,” I murmur, wiping Axel’s mouth.

In the past, it was Axel who would snap his fingers and clean me up. He did so for me in the dungeons on the palace grounds, where we had to face unspeakable truths. Now I simply return the favor, although I find that the entire bathroom floor is now squeaky clean, and not from my doing.

Harlow gives me a look I pointedly ignore.

“We can’t keep letting him self-destruct in this manner.” She frowns, snatching his chin in her hand and giving him a firm shake. “He can’t even open his eyes for gods’ sake.”

“It's only been?—”

“No,” she cuts me off, her fiery eyes scorching me. “No more excuses. He needs to get it together.”