“What the fuck?” Cain says, sounding both shocked and deadpan.
The alcove is empty.
CHAPTER16
My heart sinks all the way down between my feet. I feel sick.
“So much for fae Sight being accurate,” I say, perhaps a little snappier than is warranted. It’s not like Cain or Raven did this on purpose, especially Raven who’s been nothing but accommodating to me from the beginning. The poor guy looks absolutely sick, like he’s so disappointed in himself he might throw up.
“We know what we saw,” Cain insists, a stubborn and slightly demonic glint in his eye. “There was an Aurora Gem, right here.”
“We should’ve gone right away,” North grumbles. “I shouldn’t have suggested we wait. This is my fault.”
“So, what, we could run into whoever was trying to take it and be caught in a fight we weren’t prepared for?” Cain points out. “No, hey, don’t blame yourself.”
Raven nods, in agreement with Cain. They’re both looking at North with such supportive affection, and my heart gives a painful thump against my ribcage. They really do all care about each other so much. They’re such a unit.
I want to be a part of something like that. Can I? Can I let myself?
“Our Sight isn’t wrong,” Cain continues, looking over at me. “This gem was here. Someone got to it before we did.”
“Who?” I ask.
Cain shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
I could possibly ask him to try to use his Sight, but that knocked him and Raven out for a while, and I don’t want to be stuck in this place any longer than we have to be. “Could you locate another gem?”
“That’s not how the Sight works,” Cain replies. “It’s not like a computer search engine, you can’t just type in what you want and it’ll tell you what you want to know. If you want to see something specific, you have to manually search for it, like going through bookshelves in a library. And Aurora Gems are rare. It’ll be hard to find another one.”
Yeah, we got lucky with this one. Fuck. “Okay, but there has to be some way to track whoever was here, then, right? We can’t find a new gem or really track this one but we can track people.”
And we do have a shifter on us…
I look over at North. “Could you shift into your wolf form and track them that way?”
The moment I say it, I know I’ve put my foot in my mouth. Raven winces and looks away like he’s pretending he isn’t there. I’m surprised he doesn’t phase out or turn into stone to avoid the conversation entirely.
Cain opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, that gleam in his eye that he gets when he’s about to explain something to me—only to stop and close his mouth again, looking at North.
“We can find a way to track them without doing that,” Cain says at last, when the tension’s grown so thick I could cut into it with one of North’s knives. “Raven’s sense of smell is pretty good, and—”
“No,” North cuts in. His tone is final. “Kiara’s right. Using my wolf form would be the most convenient way. The easiest way.”
Cain looks over at Raven, who still looks like he just would rather be anywhere but here. “We could…” Cain tries again, but North cuts him off.
“No. I’ll shift.”
I swallow. I feel like I’ve done something wrong, and that I should make this right, but I don’t know how I messed up so I don’t know how to fix it or what to say. Should I apologize?
North steps back from us all and a look of immense concentration comes over his face. I’ve never seen people shifting into their animal form before. I’ve heard all kinds of different stories, but generally I hear that unlike if you’re a lycanthrope—someone who got bitten and is now forced to transform every full moon—a shifter’s transformation isn’t painful. It’s very smooth and natural to them.
But that doesn’t seem to be happening here with North. He’s got his face screwed up, focusing, and it’s clear that he’s putting a lot of effort into it, but nothing’s happening.
“Relax,” Cain advises. “Breathe into it.”
North opens one eye to shoot Cain a look, but he does take a deep breath and relax. I wouldn’t say that all the tension goes out of his shoulders, but a lot of it does. He’s clearly trying to take Cain’s advice.
And still, nothing happens.