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Chapter Twenty-Four

"This way, Mr. Yevgeny."

Owen's directive was followed with a look so sour, Sang's stomach nearly curdled. There was something hidden in the crinkled corner of his eyes, a look she'd almost classify as disappointment, but that was too shallow. If she looked just deep enough into his state, she could see the faint tang of envy creeping into his glare. The expression tangled unnaturally with his poise.

Energy tickled her fingertips, and gently prying her hand out of Raven's, she took a slow step back into the carpeted forest, "I'll just—"

"You'll come with me," Raven interrupted. His tone brokered no argument, decisive and cut to the point, "I do not believe in secrets."

After everything that had happened with her boys in the last few weeks, his assurance was a ball against her frazzled heart. She hated secrets, hated lies.

It was obvious that Owen didn't agree. Glasses flashing from the low moonlight, he countered, "We are not here to discuss secrets," he emphasized that word with an irritable scowl, "There are matters regarding your intentions that we need to clarify."

"Then there is nothing to talk about," taking a step forward, Raven raised his shoulders in an apathetic shrug. A cheeky smirk slanted his mouth as he stared Owen head on, "I am here because that is where my bonded is."

There was a special emphasis on that word that Sang had still yet to clarify. It made her feel warm inside, but it's origins weren't clear. Raven threw it around like it was religion, Sean said it like it was the basis of a scientific fact, but North? He'd spat it out like a curse.

It also became apparent that Mr. Blackborne fell into the same thinking pattern. While Sang wasn't surprised, she was startled— especially when his reaction faded from disbelief to fury.

Another crack appeared in Owen's persona. His upper lip curled inward, the faintest hint of a snarl cutting through his cheeks, "She is not—"

"Да." Raven took another measured step forward, "She is."

It happened before she could blink. Owen moved. Without a shred of bravado, he was in Raven's personal space— close enough to feel his breath cresting his nose. A pale hand fisted in Raven's t-shirt; his veins suddenly pronounced with exertion as he forced the taller man to tilt down toward him.

But it was the energy surging behind him that forced her breath to stall in her lungs.

Like a billowing tidal wave pounding over the coast, an azure-colored power flooded over Mr. Blackborne's shoulders. It moved differently than the gold static she employed, it's descent down Owen's arm more liken to a river than an electric current, but it's origins casted no doubt.

As the strange coloring coalesced on his lower forearm, Mr. Blackborne spoke. It was a velvety sort of sound, threat hidden behind silk, "You do not get to make that decision, Mr. Yevgeny."

There was a supernatural steel concealed in his tone. The kind that made the noise in the forest skitter to a standstill. Even Raven paused— his dark honey eyes tracking the power with a curious wariness that bordered on the edge of familiarity. As the blue energy trickled past Owen's fingertips and toward Raven's chest, he did the unthinkable.

He laughed.

"You are scared of little bird," he teased, but there was a deadly lack of mirth in his eyes, "When you should be scared of yourself."

The words were a verbal slash of barbed wire against an already emblazoned opponent. Raven had directed just enough scorn into his tone to scathe and even Sang found herself reflexively flinching back from the underhanded vitriol.