Page 137 of Heir of Broken Souls

I follow it, and when it rings out once more, I hesitantly pull open the broom closet. I suck in a sharp gasp. Lenox lies in there, slumped forward, blood trickling from the back of his head.

Falling to my knees, I don’t realize my hands are shaking until I reach out to run them over his wound. Another pained moan falls from his lips.

“Shh, it’s all right. I’m here, buddy.”

Emotion clogs my throat as memories from decades ago filter through my mind, memories from the day I found Lenox in the hole his father had trapped him within. The one that I searched for every day for seven years.

My shaking hand slides beneath his head, warm blood filling my palm from his wound. Taking a steadying breath, I clear my mind and focus on my healing magic.

This is just another thing added to Hazel’s list of heinous acts. When does it end? The moment my eyes caught on Hazel and the impersonator, I knew we had already lost. The guilt that is going to wrack Delilah…

How do you soothe an ache in your lover’s heart that beats in your own?

How do I help her when I can’t seem to help myself?

The guttural thoughts dissolve from my mind as Lenox’s amber eyes flutter open. I heave a sigh of relief.

He groans. “What happened?”

I answer him honestly. “You don’t want to know.”

It will crush him, and I’ve endured enough heartache for one day.

“Let’s get you to bed so you can rest. Everything else can wait.”

* * *

It doesn’t take me long to find her. After all, where does a guilty heart lead you?

To the ones your actions have affected.

After putting Lenox to bed, fussing over him like a mother hen and dutifully ignoring Nolan’s incessant questions of what’s going on in my mind, I find Delilah hovering over Harlow’s bed, crying silently.

She doesn’t look at me when I walk in. “How is she?” Delilah asks, her voice gravelly.

“It was touch and go for a while there…but she’ll be fine after a deep sleep.”

“And Lenox?”

“Healing.”

I’ve never been so terse with her before.

At the sound of my tone she slowly turns to me, those blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. Her nose is red, her eyes puffy. She’s probably been crying since Hazel fled, and I certainly haven’t helped things.

I’ve never left her alone when she was upset before. I had a reason, but it feels tense between us. Our bond is hesitant and wary.

My head tips to the side, beckoning her to follow me across the hall and back into our cabin. The sight of her pillow drenched in tears makes a knife strike my heart. I tear my gaze away from it as she quietly closes the door behind her.

The moment the silencing shield falls into place around the room, she stiffens. The sight of her body turning rigid has me frowning before I realize what is happening. Clutching my chest as an ache blooms across it, I say in shock, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re angry,” she whispers, her eyes downcast on her feet.

“I will never,everhurt you.”

I move toward her, but pause when she instinctively takes a step back.

“You’ve never truly been angry with me before.”