I swore I heard him mumble about just ripping off the Band-Aid or something and refocused on his face, taking in the lines of strain bracketing his mouth and the almost manic gleam in his green eyes as he avoided my gaze.
Suddenly, he pinned me with a stare. “My mom’s name is Dawn, Lark.”
I felt the air leave my lungs and stay gone for a beat, before I sucked it in on a gasp. It was as if the world had fallen out from under me and I no longer had purchase on this world. My head pounded to the beat of my heart, electric shocks of adrenaline making my toes and fingertips tingle. My head swam, and my vision darkened, tunneling to only his eyes—eyes I’d never realized were so very much like mine. Like Mom’s.
His words echoed in my ears, and I felt my inherent protection magic rise, likely sensing the turmoil and shock roiling through my gut and overtaking my body. When my system had finally had enough of the oxygen deprivation, I let out what had been stuck, the air coming out in a gust. A blast of energy flew out with it. Something I’d never experienced and certainly had neverdonebefore.
What the. . .?
Before I could even internalize that, Turner grunted and slid off the bench, landing hard on the grass with an “oomph.”
“Shit, Turn, I’m sorry,” I breathed and hurried over to him, falling to his side in the grass and taking his hand. “Shit, shit. Are you okay? Fuck.”
He coughed out a chuckle and looked up at me with a smirk. “I love it when you swear. It’s adorable.” He grinned. “But you didn’t have to take out nineteen years of missed sibling angst on me two seconds after I told you I was your brother.”
“Smartass.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him up to a seated position.
But then his words registered.
My brother.
How was this even happening? First Kholt, and now Turner. There were too many ties to my old life overlapping the new one I’d built—with literal blood, sweat, and tears. It was hard to feel safe. Yet a pit of determined fire had set up residence at my center, as well. I cared about these people. I loved my life. And I’d fight like hell to keep it. But I’d make sure we were all safe along the way.
Seemed my magic was on board with that idea if this new manifestation was anything to go by.
Chapter23
“A cult is hardcore – evil and good are the same and subjected only to perspective, and you must tell the difference by experience, not books. Do good through evil, and justify evil to get good.”
~Robin Sacredfire
The world blurred by the Lincoln Towncar’s window, throwing everything into a psychedelic kaleidoscope of color. Lionel rubbed his chin, thinking of the coming days and how nearly twenty years of frustration would finally come to an end. His little bird would soon be back in his grasp, and her power, that delicious, intoxicating magic that he’d so craved since she’d first come to the ranch, would be his—one way or another.
He had an ace up his sleeve now. Something to catch her off guard and allow his plan to come to fruition. Because everybody stuttered a step when it came to their momma.
Chapter24
~ Kholt~
When I saw Lark and Turner coming through the archway into the plantation’s courtyard, arm in arm, I felt a weight drift free from my shoulders.
I got up and walked over to meet them, a smile on my face. “So, things went well, I take it?”
They shared a look and a grin and then looked back at me. “Define . . .well,” Turner said, bumping into Lark’s shoulder.
Lark rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I may have—”
“Taken me out with your magic and landed me straight on my ass?” Turner finished.
I felt my stomach drop. “What?” I asked, trying to reconcile what they were saying with the vision in front of me.
Lark looked at Turner and smiled and then turned her gorgeous green eyes on me. “He took me off guard—clearly—and my magic sort of . . . fritzed. I kind of knocked him off the bench in my surprise.”
“No, youthrewme off the bench.”
“It wasn’t that intense, you drama queen,” Lark teased.
“Have you ever done anything like that before?” I asked, checking them both over for any signs of injury or harm—physical or psychological.