Page 37 of Rising Reign

I moved in closer, studying the pot of ink. It looked like pure shimmer—not like diamonds, but even more sparkly, as if it were fairy dust. “This is different than what you tattooed me with.”

Brix lifted the small pot for me to see. “It’s light ink. Enchanted to be used on the darkest tattoos.”

The ink itself was hypnotizing, as if it could pull me in and swallow me whole. And as I touched the pot, I could feel the magic humming there. “Powerful,” I whispered.

“Yes. Especially with you wielding it,” Brix said softly.

He walked me through the basics, explaining that there were different types of needles, but I’d be using the finest one for this. “Don’t worry, you won’t hurt me,” he said as he pulled off his T-shirt.

I took in all the images inked across his skin—ones that seemed to expose his worst nightmares but also his greatest loyalties. Arcane was inked over his left pec with five paw prints below it. His pack. On his right were three paw prints, each hollowed out. My heart ached when I realized they were for the family he’d lost.

Another battle scene was in the center of his chest, but this one was full of nonsensical monsters, dark and disturbing. This. This was where he needed the light.

I lifted the tattoo machine with my gloved hand. Taking a breath, I looked up into Brix’s eyes. “You’re sure?”

“I trust you.”

The ache in my chest intensified, but I knew he needed this. Closing my hand over the machine, it buzzed to life. I focused on one monster in particular. It was part shape, part smoke, its mouth open in a silent scream. But the scream was sucking out the soul of its enemy, taking its very essence.

I touched the needle to Brix’s skin, etching a line along the monster, and then pulled my hand back. I watched as the ink seeped into his flesh and the tattoo changed. The shimmer danced across the beast, and instead of being in battle with another creature, its head tipped back, arm-like appendages reaching skyward as if it were searching for salvation instead of attack.

“How?” I croaked.

“The ink takes what’s in our minds—yours and mine—and transforms the tattoo into what we need most.”

I stared in wonder at Brix’s chest, the designs pulling me back in. I lost track of time as I worked, letting instinct guide me until my arm ached and I had to put the tattoo machine down. But as I stepped back, I took in everything on Brix’s torso. Some battles still remained, a reminder of his strength, but the stories they told were now ones of hope.

He slid off the chair and moved to the large mirror on the room’s far wall, taking me with him. Brix stared at his reflection in the mirror, hypnotized by the new images gracing his skin. Then, he turned, his hands sliding into my hair and his mouth taking mine. “I love you, Little Warrior. You make everything better.”

“You’re being mushy in our tattoo studio?” Ender barked, cutting into my haze of happiness. “Is not one place sacred?”

I struggled not to laugh as I turned in Brix’s arms. “Got a problem, Mr. Pussy Palace?”

“Pussy Palace?” Rhys asked, striding in behind him. “There’s gotta be a story there.”

“There’s not,” Ender clipped.

I looked up at Brix. “Told you catching feelings made him grumpy.”

23

WREN

The din of the lunchtime rush at the newly renovated Arcane washed over me, covering me like a comforting blanket. The guys hadn’t been thrilled about the idea of me returning to work, but after the intensity of the past few weeks, I needed the routine and normalcy. The agreement was that I’d have at least a two-person team with me at all times.

Today, that team was Puck and Rhys—a Rhys who apparently hadn’t experienced small-town life or bar-food fare, because he seemed enchanted by every new discovery. “Beer-battered french fries,” he muttered, staring at the slice of potato. “Where have these been all my life?”

Puck chuckled as he poured two beers for me to take to a table of regulars. “Who knew all it took for you to behave was a bucket of fries?”

Rhys popped a fry into his mouth. “I’m very open to bribery.”

Puck set the two beers on my tray as his gaze slid over my face. “You feeling okay? This isn’t too much?”

“I’m good. I promise,” I said, taking the beers to the table and checking their waters. As I turned back, it was to find Rhys kissing a very flustered Dina’s hand.

“It is such a pleasure to meet you, Dina.”

“Who is this?” she growled at Puck. “And why are his lips on my hand?”