Page 6 of The Marked and the Broken
“We don’t need them,” Knox insists, his words and movement agitated.
I let out a deep, tired breath. “We need all the fucking help we can get, and Evrin’s right; they’re targets now. We all know that Solace isn’t exactly safe for Sentinels.”
“They’re not Sentinels,” Bastien counters, and I rub at the back of my neck, frustrated that they’re being so stubborn about this.
“I don’t know what the fuck they are, but what would it hurt?” I ask. “More magic and skilled fighters in this situation is the opposite of a fucking bad thing. I get that you’re pissed, but they have runes. They need to be trained just like you do,” I tell them.
“So you would accept them as Chosen if that’s what they turn out to be?” Knox asks, his steely gray eyes bouncing between each of mine, and I’m not sure what he’s looking for.
“Knox, it doesn’t feel like that with them. I don’t know how to explain it. You just have to trust me when I tell you that whatever happened, it doesn’t feel like it does with you guys.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” Knox presses, his gaze dropping away from mine.
I glare at him. “I know there’s history between all of you guys and their coven. I know that makes all of this harder to deal with, but I’m not trying to collect more mates. I was never trying to collect any in the first place,” I tell them exasperated. “Then you five were marked, andwehappened,” I say a little softer, gesturing to all of us. “I thought I was good to go, but then the whole Torrez thing happened. I don’t know what you want me to say. I have no control over what my magic does sometimes, and I promise that’s equally as frustrating for me as it is for you guys in this case.”
“Answer the fucking question, Vinna,” Knox grinds out. His tone is pure vitriol, and I’m shocked to hear it coming from Knox and even more stunned that it’s directed toward me. I move to get in his face, and Ryker steps between us. “Fuck you, Knox. How the hell am I supposed to answer that? I don’t know. They don’t feel like Chosen to me, but if somehow they are, I’m—what? Just supposed to turn my back on that? I trust my magic. That’s all I can fucking say.”
Sabin and Ryker are the only two looking at me and not wearing expressions that make me feel like I just told them they can never eat bacon again. I take a couple deep breaths and try to exhale the indignation boiling inside of me.
“I get that this is hard, but I didn’t do any of this on purpose. I mean, I did with Torrez, but that seems all fucked up as it is, so maybe it doesn’t count. Anyway, my point is I get that you aren’t happy about the situation with Enoch and his coven, but stop acting like I did this on purpose.”
“Torrez isn’t the problem here, and neither is your magic choosing another mate. The issue isthatcoven,” Bastien tells me. At the same time, Ryker asks, “What do you mean the situation with Torrez is fucked up?”
I turn to Ryker. “I mean he has our runes on him, but none of us have his rune. I don’t think the connection is there yet, and I can’t tell you why.”
“Maybe it’s because he’s a shifter; it’s possible your magic works differently with him than it does with casters,” Sabin hypothesizes.
I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe, who knows? We’ll just have to wait and see, I guess.” I turn to Bastien, his hazel eyes still stony. “Like I said, I understand that you all have an issue with Enoch and his coven, but I’m not going to throw them aside and leave them to get picked off because you guys have bad blood. You can either trust me and the magic that brought us together, or not. That’s your choice,” I tell him, finality in my tone, and I hate that I can’t say for sure which he’ll actually choose.
I’ve been independent and on my own for so long, but I’ve just started to see what my life could be like if I had more. If I had them. Part of me wants to say, “Fuck it, I am who I am, my magic is what it is, take it or leave it.” And the other side of me is terrified that this has pushed them too far, too out of reach, and nothing I can do or say is going to pull them back into me.
“And what about trusting us?” Bastien counters, pulling me from my worried thoughts. “We are telling you that we don’t trust them, and yet here you are, going against that and defending them.”
“Because my experiences aren’t your experiences, Bas. You all grew up together, and you compete against each other, and you just don’t like each other. I lived with them; I’ve trained and fought with them. I don’t have the same hang-ups that you do. I don’t trust Lachlan or Silva, but I accept that your experiences with them are different than mine. I have never, and will never, ask you to turn your back on them just because I don’t like or trust them.”
“Yeah, but that’s family, that’s not the same thing,” Knox argues. “And you can say that you trust Enoch and his coven all you want, but you went after them just like we did when you first saw their markings. Doesn’t that prove that deep down you don’t trust them either?”
I rub my hands over my face and take a minute to collect my thoughts. “The wordfamilydoesn’t mean the same thing to me that it does to you. However if I apply your logic, Knox, then Valen and Bastien are biologically connected to Silva and his coven, so there’s an exception for them. But I might bemagicallyconnected to Enoch, Kallan, Nash and—yay for me—Becket. So wouldn’t the same exception apply?”
“Why are you fighting so hard for them, Vinna? What’s really going on here?” Knox asks, and I don’t like the tinge of suspicion or accusation in his tone.
“I have no idea, Knox. I didn’t intentionally mark them, so whatever it is you’re accusing me of right now, shut it the fuck down. I haven’t done anything to earn the betrayal that’s leaking out of your eyes.”
Knox runs a hand over his face, and my chest aches. How the hell is this all going so wrong? This is me he’s talking to. I take a step toward Knox and reach for his hand, but he crosses his arms, physically shutting me out. I’m so surprised by his denial that I’m not sure what to say. It’s like he’s taken something fragile and beautiful that I’ve given him and smashed it on the ground, and now I’m staring at the pieces, desperate to put them back together but with no idea how. I just look at him, shocked and suddenly lost.
“I don’t trust them,” Knox tells me.
“I don’t either,” Bastien agrees, and his stance mirrors Knox’s.
I step back and remind myself that, as much as I think they should cut me some fucking slack, I need to do the same for them too. A ton of shit has gone down in the last twenty-four hours, so I’ll treat them how I want to be treated instead of junk punching them, which is what I want to do. I cross my arms over my chest since apparently it’s the go-to move for stubborn assholes.
“Your mistrust is noted,” I tell Knox and Bastien coldly. “I would also like it noted that I never know what the fuck my magic is going to do, but it always works out in the best possible way in the end.”
No one says anything, and I ignore the ache in my chest when Bastien and then Knox walk out of the living room. I watch their backs as they disappear through the kitchen, and refuse to flinch when the door that leads out to the garage slams loudly behind them. I stare at the wall, not sure what to think or feel. Valen steps in front of me and waits patiently for my eyes to move from the wall to him.
“I’ll talk to them,” he reassures me. “It’s been a long night, it’ll blow over.”
I nod at Valen’s words, not trusting myself to say anything right now. He leans down, his lips skimming mine, and I can taste hesitancy. I hate that it’s flavoring his lips, so I reach up and grab the back of his neck and pull his mouth firmly to mine. I fill my kiss with as much reassurance as I can, and Valen drinks it up and asks for more. I kiss him until the ground feels more solid under my feet and he doesn’t feel so far away. We pull apart, and he rests his forehead against mine, grounding me in a way I desperately need.
