The same eyes that now widened in confusion, framed by red-brown curls. I froze in the door frame, watched the questions on her face morph to betrayal.
My heart shattered, the jagged shards tearing at my chest from the inside.
Alec extended his claws. I moved to shift but Mordecai anticipated my interference. He slammed me against the wall, a sharp blade pressed to my throat.
“We don’t help the Fae, Reagan.” He cast a glance over his shoulder. “And I don’t abide those who willingly take from my coffers. Alec, if you would.”
I struggled, the blade biting into my skin. Blood trickled onto my chest as I blurted, “Please, don’t. I forced her to take the supplies. She didn’t want to.”
First mistake. A confession.
Alec extended his claws and attacked. The father lunged to protect his children and took the full brunt of Alec’s dragon claws as they shredded his chest apart. Bile rose up my throat, stomach heaving when the small boy fell beside him. Sobs filled the room as the mother gripped the girl tightly against her side.
“Please,” I begged. “Please don’t do this.”
Second mistake. Pleading.
Mordecai ignored my tears and lifted the blade long enough to motion for his son to continue. I tried to free myself, pressure trembling against my spine as my wings threatened to punch free. Cold steel found a new mark on my neck, a new line of blood springing up right below the first.
“Let this be a lesson to you. I don’t tolerate mistakes, Reagan.”
At the end of the sentence the girl’s mother fell, her throat slit. I swallowed. Met those honey-toned eyes.
A sob shuddered through me when she crumpled into the spreading pool of blood. Mordecai released me then and I shoved past him, gathering the small girl to my chest. Tears fell unrestrained down my cheeks. My body shook so hard I almost lost my grip on the poor child.
This young, innocent Fae . . . her death was my fault. Her family's deaths . . . My fault. Her blood was on my—
“One minute,” Mordecai said, his cold voice cutting through my sorrows. “If you’re not outside in one minute, I’ll slaughter every other Fae in this building and burn it to the ground. You’re emotional, Reagan. Weak. Maybe this will teach you to be strong.”
His footsteps retreated, tailed by Alec’s. I spared a glance at the girl’s eyes but they were dull, lifeless, and my chest ached as tears welled up again. Gently, I brushed them closed and lowered her back to the ground. I would find a way to make sure they were buried properly, even if I had to sneak back myself. I glanced down at my clothing, to the crimson splattered and smeared across my own skin. Blood.
Her blood, mingling with mine.
—
A gasp tore from my lungs—a dream. I knew it was a dream. I had lived this moment a thousand times. And still, as the memory played out, I was powerless to change anything.
Powerless to silence my own mind.
My fingers slipped to my throat, traced the thin scars that Mordecai’s knife left as a permanent reminder. I wiped at the tears that always followed that dream, reducing them to dark spots on my sleeve.
Four years had passed since that day, and every time the dream came the emotions were as strong as the first time. The pain in my chest was still raw agony, my heart clenched tight beneath my ribs. My nightmares had been worse, once. When I moved from the mansion they had lessened, gradually. Now they visited only once or twice a month, if I was lucky.
Still too much. That day should have never happened. I had been sloppy, and their lost lives were still my biggest regret. The girl and the bright, sparkling life in her beautiful eyes . . . gone.
And it had been my fault.
I blew out a breath, scrubbing my palms over my face. My eyes fell to my cell phone. Nine-thirty. In my waking frenzy, I had torn my earbuds out. I freed them from my blankets, shoving them back into place.
Without them—without music—I never would have managed to sleep again. I buried my face into my pillow and tugged the blankets over my head.
—
“Reagan.” The sound was foggy. Who would interrupt my sleep? No one had access to my— “You look a little cold. Want to use me as a blanket?”
Oh, hell no.
“Alec, get out of my room.”
“Are you sure? I could—”
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop. Get out.”
I heard the small huff, the retreating footsteps. Blinking, I glanced at the clock beside my bed. Eleven? Like, eleven in the morning? This better be good. Alec had pulled an earbud from my ear and I plucked the other free, dropping them onto my comforter beside my phone.
Shoving off the covers, I rolled out of bed and pulled a long t-shirt over gray leggings. I stormed down the hall, eyes narrowed. Alec leaned against the kitchen counter, helping himself to the cupboard.
“Why did you wake me up? What do you want?”
He cast a long look my way, eyes traveling head-to-toe and back. “Not too bad. Would be better—”
I growled, the low lion tone rumbling from my throat. Alec cut himself off as I snarled, “What do you want?”
“I don’t. Mordecai wants you at the mansion.” He shuffled a box aside and snapped the cabinet shut. “The shifters have been rowdy since the mining job hit the papers this morning. He needs me to make sure the Fae get safely in and out. While I lead them along the border, he needs you to secure the manor, since the interviews will be held in the mines.”
“In the mines?
