Page 83 of The Fate of Black Hearts

Efrem clucked. He already knew her choice. Of course she’d choose Lyra. “There has to be a way to save both of you. Maybe if Dom loves you, he’d overlook?—”

“If he loved me, why would he have scrubbed our minds of him for six years? He would have trusted us to be able to handle ourselves.”

“Solid point. But he’s not exactly one to take anyone else’s opinion into consideration. Maybe he thought it was the only way to protect you. I can respect that.”

Evie crossed her legs. “He’s too powerful for us to simply hide Lyra from him forever. I think we haveCora to thank for keeping her safe until now.”

“What if you killed him?”

For an instant, she considered the thought of Dom’s death. Something inside her cracked. “It’d kill me. If he dies, I couldn’t survive. Could I hurt him?” The thought of all possible means of killing him cycled through her head. Her shoulders slumped, and she shook her head. “I couldn’t do it.”

“What if I did it?”

“No. I’d fight you to protect him.”

“Then that’s not an option.” Efrem squeezed her forearm.

Outside the window, the light of dawn crested above the edge of the horizon, bathing the world in pink hues over the ocean.I need to trust him.“I don’t think he’s the primary threat to Lyra. I think it’s the other mages. Do you know how to kill a higher level mage? We need to learn.”

“I’ll find out.” He leaned away from her. “Lyra is right. He’s the missing piece.”

She met his gaze. “He’s family and he’s in trouble. I can sense it.”

“What should we do?”

“We take care of one threat at a time. To us and to him.”

“This sounds dangerous.” Efrem’s lips split into a gleeful grin. “Are you ready for this?”

“I’m ready to show him exactly what it means to be a part of this family. He’s going to have to prove he’s worthy of it.”

“This is going to suck for him, isn’t it?” He snickered.

“He deserves every moment of tough love he’s about to get.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Several hours later…

Dom wondered if this visit would get him killed, or at least back under the restriction of a dampener. He knocked twice on the heavy wooden door to the small wood house deep in the jungle of Brazil.

The door opened. No one there.

A voice deep within yelled, “Come in.”

He pushed inside.

Brik sat deep in meditation on the floor. Over the past few years, the Spaniard had let his hair and beard grow long. He wore the traditional meditation robes that many mages discarded a century ago.

“Leave the weapons on the table,” Brik ordered. “Join me.”

Dom unloaded his two long swords and five daggers onto the table.

He sat next to Brik on the floor mat, not that he intended to do a true meditation. Not in his current state of mind.

“Got yourself free, I see.” Brik didn’t open his eyes. “I figured those Fates would only let you be bound for so long. Why now?”

“Something has infiltrated the Conclave.”