Page 132 of Unveiled

Connor swore, grabbing Adrian around the waist, pinning him against his chest. “Hold on.”

His mark flared a blinding gold, bringing with it a sting, as if a swarm of jellyfish had wrapped sly tentacles around him. The lights in the castle flickered.

The Whispering Wood answered with a low, mournful hum that made the air vibrate. Connor knew the valley had awakened fully, and that the Council wanted Adrian.

“No,” Connor growled, tightening his grip. “You can’t have him.”

Then the floor split. A hairline crack, thin as a thread, opened beneath Adrian’s feet. Not a rend. Not yet. But it pulsed with the same impossible light.

Adrian stiffened. “Connor.”

Connor lifted him off the ground instinctively, holding him in both arms as if the earth itself might swallow him.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Connor snarled, his direction: the valley. “I don’t give a damn what you think you need.”

The crack widened. Adrian cried out, a ragged, broken sound, arching backward, the mark blazing with violent, agonising brightness. His shadow swirled on the wall, seemingly out of sync with his body.

Connor grabbed him tighter. Adrian’s eyes snapped open, glowing, impossibly bright.

“Connor,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Connor froze. “What? No. No. Don’t you dare.”

The light erupted fast, wild, alive, encircling Adrian in a loop of searing brilliance. Connor roared and tried to pull him away.

Adrian reached for him, fingers inches from Connor’s face. “Connor.”

And then he vanished.

The light collapsed, the crack sealed shut, the air snapped back into silence, and Adrian was gone.

As if the world had inhaled him.

Connor hit the floor on his knees, arms still outstretched around empty air. For the first time in his life, he had no idea what to do next.

He didn’t remember standing, or roaring Adrian’s name until his throat was hoarse. He didn’t remember kicking the door off its hinges, or sprinting down the corridor, or the exact moment he fell to his hands in the courtyard, claws breaking through his fingertips.

He only remembered one thing.

Adrian was gone.

Xiathen arrived first, pale and shaking. “Connor, what happened?”

Connor’s voice was dead. Hollow. He felt impossibly empty. “The valley took him.”

Xiathen gasped, covering their mouth. “No.”

“He’s gone,” Connor snarled. “And I’m getting him back.”

Fraser arrived next. Breathless, his eyes wide. “Connor, we felt the surge, what the hell?” He stopped and stared at Connor. “Con, your eyes. They’re glowing gold.”

The rest of the clan trickled out of their rooms, faces white with concern and fear.

“The shadow took him,” Connor said, shaking with rage. “Somewhere under the valley. Somewhere I can’t reach.”

Fraser paled. “Connor.”

“No chain, no wall, no magic, no law of the Veil will stop me,” Connor growled. “I’ll tear the bloody world apart, stone by stone, until I find him.”