“Could we at least check?” Silas asked. I couldn’t believe how disappointed he sounded.
“No!” Mason and Connor shouted.
I scrambled to my feet and looked at Shay. He stood quietly in the middle of the cavern, eyes closed, both hands grasping the hilt of the sword. The weapon was a study in contrasts. The warm glow of Haldis radiated from between his fingers, while the blade gleamed cool and clear, like lightning striking from the sky to the hilt. It was the depth of the earth wedded to the breadth of the heavens.
As if he felt my gaze, Shay’s eyelids fluttered open and he offered me a smile of mystery. He pulled in a long slow breath.
“We have to get the other sword.”
Something in his voice stopped my breath-strength, fearlessness, and longing I hadn’t heard before. Part of me stood in awe of him-the Scion finding the source of his power-but a smaller, pettier voice told me I was also jealous.
Not jealous of his power, but of that stirring quality in his words. He was finding himself, his true self. Last night, I’d believed Shay when he said he wanted to stay at my side. That he would be my mate. Watching him now, the distance between us felt immense-he no longer seemed like a Guardian. He was only the Scion. What did that mean for me?
I’d never doubted Shay’s love, but Silas’s question no longer sounded ludicrous. What future could the Scion and a Guardian alpha have? Something cold and hollow settled in my bones that I thought might be grief. Was I losing Shay to his destiny?
“Get the other sword, huh?” Connor grinned. “Well, that is the plan.” He jumped out of the way before Adne could kick him again.
“I have an even better plan,” Mason said, putting his arm around Adne’s shoulders.
She lifted her eyebrows at him. “What’s that?”
“You open one of those pretty doors and get us the hell out of here.”
EIGHT
THE CACOPHONY OF sound that flooded my ears when I stepped through the portal made me bristle. Was it panic? Fear?
I’d been caught up in the events of the ice cavern, lost in thoughts about Tordis, the sword, Shay-so that I’d almost forgotten that another team had been on a different mission.
How many had we lost so that Shay could retrieve the blade?
My growing fear splintered when it became clear that the loudest sounds of the din were raucous hoots and unchecked laughter. The celebratory noise died down as the rest of my party emerged through Adne’s portal. When Shay appeared, the room suddenly drowned in silence.
Anika stepped forward. Shay didn’t speak. He simply lifted the sword; its blade came to life and I heard a wind, like the rush of wings, bringing hope-that brightness was balanced by the subtle glow of Haldis, with the solid warmth of the earth itself.
The room erupted again. This time the cheers were deafening. Only Anika remained silent, her lashes wet with unshed tears.
Searchers swarmed Shay, gazing at the sword but careful not to touch it. Watching his newly formed entourage bask in the near-tangible power of the sword, I once again felt the tightness of loss, grief like an invisible hand around my neck.
I’m going to lose him. I started to inch away from them, hoping the sensation would pass.
Connor pushed his way into the crowd and began recounting our journey; from the snatches I caught, he seemed to be embellishing our exploits a bit. My suspicions were confirmed when Silas shoved Connor aside, waving his notebook as he began his version of the tale. Connor took up a strategic position just behind the Scribe and made faces and crude imitations of Silas at appropriate-or rather, inappropriate-intervals.
“Wanna check on our boys?” Mason caught my arm, jerking his chin in the direction of Nev and Ren, who were talking with Pascal.
I met Mason’s teasing gaze, wondering what he meant by our boys. Nev was his partner, but did he expect that Ren would be mine? The thought made me bristle and I barely stopped myself from growling at him.
“Sure.”
I glanced back, expecting Sabine to join us. But she was standing apart, beside Ethan. Their heads were close, bodies turned toward each other, lips moving in swift whispers. The din of the room didn’t touch them, as if they were the only two people standing in Tactical.
Nev and Ren were grinning. The alpha leaned against the massive wooden table, looking as pleased with himself as ever. Nev was perched on a chair, sitting on its frame with his feet resting on its seat. I looked back and forth between them, puzzled, but it was Mason who asked first.
“What?”
Nev’s eyes sparkled. “Dude. Bears!”
Mason frowned. “You’re happy about bears?”
Ren flexed his shoulders. “They make for a good fight.”
“Oui.” Pascal laughed, slapping Ren on the back. “Les loups ont été trop pour les ours.”
“Mais oui!” Nev grabbed Mason’s hands, pulling him into a hug. “Wolves kick bear butt. How did things go for you guys?”
Mason leaned his cheek against Nev’s. “No losses. Got the sword. I’d call it a win. You?”
Ren smiled; his canines were sharp. “Like he said before. Dude. Bears!” He turned to Pascal. “Besides, we had a kick-ass team backing us.”
“Merci.” Pascal folded his arms across his chest, gazing at Ren as-sessingly. “But you made our job… less difficult than is usual.”
“Happy to oblige,” Nev said.
Pascal inclined his head. “I am sorry to say I had my doubt. Les loups have so long been numbered among our enemies. But you make les bon guerre. Better even than les ours.”
“I didn’t follow that,” Mason said.
Nev elbowed him. “No wonder you always copied my French homework. He said we make good war, better than those Swiss bears.”
“The Keepers flubbed,” Ren said, still speaking to Pascal. “Bears aren’t good warriors. They’re too solitary. We could keep them off balance because they’re too eager to argue with each other instead of working as a team.”
“Go, pack!” Nev bumped Ren’s fist.
“I think you are right.” Pascal stroked his chin. “We often find les ours alone. Rarely do they seek out one another’s company.”
“Let’s hope the Keepers have other screwups for us to exploit down the road,” Mason said. “Right, Cal?”
I nodded, but my mind had drifted. I’d been watching Pascal closely. Watching the way he was watching Ren. That assessing gaze carried a fierce admiration in it. When Ren spoke, Pascal listened. I didn’t know whether to be surprised or not. Winning people over was one of Ren’s strongest attributes. He was a natural leader and had so much charisma you could drown in it. A painful twinge caught my chest, stealing my breath for an instant. Gazing at Ren, I saw the alpha mate who would have been mine, and in seeing him, I glimpsed what our future might have looked like. What a great leader he would have made for the Haldis pack, the strength we would have shared as alphas. Had I ripped that away from him? Or could our pack come together again-was our future lingering, waiting to be reclaimed? The sharp pinching in my chest was overtaken by the pounding of my heart. As if he sensed my stare, Ren’s eyes met mine and I couldn’t look away, couldn’t breathe.
It was Anika’s voice that finally broke the spell. I turned to see her standing beside Shay.
“The Scion!” She took Shay’s hand, lifting it high. Shay raised the sword in his other hand. It flashed, sparks of lightning alive in the blade. My racing pulse went cold as I listened to the Searchers’ roaring approval for their new champion.
Did he belong to them now? Was I a fool to think it possible that the Scion could be the mate of a Guardian?