Page 49 of Rising Reign

“It is helping if it keeps her from getting dead. None of you are considering the fact that there’s a reason empaths are practically extinct. Taking on too many negative emotions can drown them. And if she doesn’t die, it could break her mind.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Wren clipped.

I turned to face her, fear and rage springing to life yet again. “I love you with everything I have in me. I can’t watch you put yourself in danger like this.”

Something in Wren’s demeanor softened. She moved into my space and lifted her hands to my cheeks. “Trust me to know my limits. Trust me to be strong enough to find a way.”

“You’re the strongest person I know,” I rasped.

Wren stretched up onto her tiptoes and brushed her mouth against mine. “Then let me do this. Help me. We can figure it out together.”

I hauled Wren into my arms, and she wrapped her legs around my waist as I touched my forehead to hers. “I love you, and this scares the hell out of me.”

“It scares me, too. Which is why I need you with me.”

“Okay,” I breathed.

Wren pulled back a fraction so she could take in my face. “Really?”

I nodded and turned to face Rhys but kept Wren wrapped tightly in my arms. “What did you see in your vision? What does Wren need to be able to do?”

Rhys shook his head. “It’s not like that. I get snapshots sometimes. A few seconds of moving pictures. But more than that, it’s feelings. And the vision told me that Wren’s empathy is the way through. That and her ability to shift.”

I scowled, my frustration mounting. That wasn’t exactly a lot to go on.

Wren seemed to sense my feelings because she cupped my cheek and gazed into my eyes. “It’s a place to start.”

I just hoped the path didn’t end in death and destruction.

30

WREN

“It smells like something died,” Puck muttered as he held his nose and walked closer to one of the gym’s open windows.

He wasn’t wrong. Whatever Hera was mixing in her ceremonial bowl smelled seriously rotten. But I couldn’t keep myself from looking anyway.

Locke’s curiosity had gotten the best of him, too. Hera scowled at him as he bent over the bowl to study the concoction. “Can I get some room?”

He grimaced. “Sorry. I just—what’s in there?”

Hera’s gaze flicked to me. “It’s probably better if you don’t know.”

My hand went to my stomach as it did a series of flips. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the possibilities of what I was about to consume, what I was about to face, or both.

I felt heat at my back, and the scent of mint and pine swirled around me. “You don’t have to do this.” Grit coated Kingston’s words as he wrapped his arms around me from behind.

I leaned into his muscular chest. “Yes, I do.”

A low, rumbling growl left his throat, and I felt the vibration in my back. “Little Warrior,” he rasped.

“It’ll be okay.” I said the words, even if I didn’t fully believe them. It was a promise to myself as much as anything.

Hera stopped mixing and closed her eyes. Her hands hovered over the ceremonial pot as she spoke some ancient words I didn’t know. This wasn’t caster magic. It was something else. I held my breath, waiting for sparks or a bang, something. But nothing happened.

Hera opened her eyes and lifted the bowl. “It’s done.”

“That’s it?” Puck asked, voicing my thoughts.