I blinked at him, confused. “What he felt?”
“It wasn’t me, Aflora. I’m curious if he knows who sent the rock or if he still has it. Knowing Shade, he pocketed it. Let’s ask him, hmm?”
“But he…? I don’t…?” I cleared my throat. “You didn’t send the rock?”
“Not my style,” he drawled. “Let’s talk to Shade. He might be easier to connect to.”
“Why?”
Zakkai lifted a shoulder. “Because he’s welcome inside my wards.”
“He is?”
“Death Bloods have always served Quandary Bloods. Most of them still do.” He shrugged again. “It’s why Death Bloods used to be the royals of the Midnight Fae. Quandary Bloods used Death Bloods to harness the source power. Many thought—and still believe—that Quandary Bloods were working for the Death Bloods. But that’s never been the case.”
That was… a lot of interesting information. But my thoughts had already returned to the rock. If Zakkai didn’t send it to me, then who did? Was he lying? Maybe. Although, I wasn’t sure what he had to gain by such a lie.
Unless he meant to goad me into dreaming up my mates.
No, that couldn’t be right. It’d been my idea from the beginning. Well, not an idea, but a demand. And I was wasting all this time debating it rather than acting on it.
I shook my head, clearing it, and closed my eyes to focus on Zeph again. Zakkai had requested Shade, but I wanted my Warrior Blood mate first. He wasn’t the one who had willingly handed me over. While I knew a reasonable explanation existed—or I hoped one did—I hadn’t forgiven Shade yet. I’d consider it after he told me why he’d made that decision.
The connection between me and Zeph was riddled with purple lines. Shade’s spell.
I poked at it and studied the structure.
It was a solid enchantment. But I could see the minuscule threads at the end—the ones that allowed me to slowly unweave and learn the spell.
I considered stopping, aware that Shade had put this here to block Zakkai, but if I could unravel it, so could my Quandary Blood mate. That made it all a moot point and more of a hindrance than a necessity.
“Very good, Aflora,” Zakkai whispered.
His words momentarily distracted me from my goal, causing the band to snap back in place. “Stop spying on me.”
“I’m not spying,” he replied, his knuckles brushing my cheek. “I can just feel your magic. You’re a natural.”
“You mean an abomination,” I corrected, peeking at him.
He smirked. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Which I suppose you’ve been taught to believe, but that’s an erroneous assessment driven by those in power.”
“Shade once said something similar. He said those in charge don’t like crossbreeding.”
“He’s right,” Zakkai murmured, his touch drifting down to my throat. “Go back to your task, Aflora. I promise not to interrupt again.”
I considered him for a moment, then closed my eyes again.
Shade’s magic reappeared immediately, my affinity for puzzles flaring to life. Zakkai’s hand left my collarbone to drift down my arm, where he linked our hands, his magic flourishing through my veins in response.
I engaged my link to him while playing with Shade’s threads, my mind memorizing the magic in case I needed to replace it. Zakkai would still be able to undo it, but maybe I could add a few enhancements to slow him down.
If that was even needed.
His protective energy seemed to hum around me, assuring me that he wouldn’t put me at risk. It could all be a lie. But a childlike part of me wanted to believe him. To test him. To see if he meant it.
His thumb whispered over my wrist, the touch reassuring.
“If this is all a trick, I’ll hate you forever,” I whispered as I tugged on the final strand of Shade’s spell.