“Dastien.” There was a sharp warning and a threat of power in Michael’s voice.
I used it to gain control and then looked at Axel again. His face was pale. His cheeks were sunken in. He’d burned so many calories changing forms that it’d take a few days of solid eating to gain an ounce of it back.
I could still smell his blood faintly on his skin, and I remembered my brief glimpse of him outside the warehouse, limp in Lucas’s arms, blood soaked his clothes from the bullet hole in his stomach and dripped from the fresh bite on arm. And I remembered Axel’s last words to Tessa on the phone before the line went dead. He’d told her not to come.
He didn’t want anything happening to his sister. I knew that. And I knew that whatever happened, I shouldn’t blame him, but I was having a tough time following through on that.
“This wasn’t anyone’s fault. Not yours. Not his.”
Michael was right, but I was blaming Axel completely. My friends partially. Because they’d helped Michael lock me up.
I knew they had no choice. They couldn’t leave me feral out there. But I needed someone to blame.
“Dastien.”
I had to tell him what he wanted to hear, or he’d never leave me alone. “I know this wasn’t anyone’s fault.”
“Don’t lie. Not to me.” His voice was patient and understanding, and it grated against my anger.
“I wasn’t lying.” I was definitely lying.
“You were growling while you watched him just now. Like you wanted to rip out his throat.” Michael sat on the foot of Axel’s bed and stared at me. His eyes were glowing olive green. Ready for a fight. “Don’t make me lock you up again. I’ll do it, but you’d do her no good in there.”
I stared at the floor, unable to meet his gaze. Not because he was more alpha than me—because I wasn’t sure if that was true anymore—but because he was right and I was ashamed.
I ran my hands through my hair, trying to think, but how the fuck was I supposed to think rationally when I couldn’t breathe?
How was I supposed to think when half of my soul was gone, and all that filled the empty spot was panic and fear and anger?
“I need her back.” I met Michael’s glowing green gaze. “I—I can’t do this without her.”
“You’ve been through tough times before. You can do this.”
I looked out the window. “I can’t.”
“Can’t do what exactly?”
I leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes, searching for the bond again. “Live. Fight. Any of it.”
“It’s only been three days. We just need more time.”
More time wouldn’t fix this. “The longer it takes, the less likely we are to find her.” Everyone knew that.
“That’s true for humans, but not for supernaturals. Especially her. She said they wanted her alive, which means they must want her magic or power for something. If she’s not dead yet, then it’s possible that they don’t want her dead at all.”
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“Unless they’re still working on stealing her magic, and will kill her when they’re done.”
He was quiet for a moment, and I kept my eyes closed. I didn’t want to see the disappointment on his face again.
I knew Michael wanted more—expected better—from me, but I didn’t have more. I didn’t have any better to give him.
“We’re still checking with the fey. The FBI agents are searching. She’s on every news station in every city and country on this planet. Everyone knows her face. Everyone is looking. Everyone. We’ll find her.”
“And if we don’t?” My voice was deep and gravelly, and I wasn’t sure who was asking—me or my wolf.
“We’ll find her.” Michael sighed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you. If—”