I looked up at him, catching his eyes for a split second. I resisted the urge to smile. “You don’t play fair. I knew for sure that bacon wouldn’t kill you.”
“But I didn’t know that.” He sighed, exasperated. “Reagan. This rock isn’t going to kill you. It gives, not takes. Are you saying you’ll face off with the Great Dragon but not touch this itty bitty harmless rock?”
“Yes, well. I know he can kill me. Maybe. That rock is a total unknown.” I chanced another glance at his face. “You have no clue what the Genesis Crystal does, exactly. And Mordecai always told me not to touch the stuff.”
“You’re right, I don’t. But I’m ninety-nine percent certain you’re safe since you’re not Fae. I think.” He chuckled, tossing the rock in the air. The green stone shimmered under the bright penthouse lights. Then Tarik looked at me almost . . . victoriously. “Think fast.”
And the rock came soaring toward me. My eyes widened. I didn’t think. Instinct reacted. My fingers curled around the crystal, clutching the sharp edges against my palm. The strange tingling I had felt last night through the gloves intensified, vibrating through my hand, my arm, spreading through my veins.
Then I was on fire.
I gasped, doubling over in pain. My whole body was engulfed. Flames burned in my veins, my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. My knees slammed to the floor and I desperately tried to pull in air. Failed.
The room spun.
As my vision began to cloud I inhaled sharply, cool air flooding my lungs. The tingling was back. My body felt energized, invincible. I could take on the world.
Another breath and the flames returned. I curled in on myself, forehead pressed to the floor. Burning. I was burning from the inside. Razor sharp pain sliced up my back, on either side of my spine. Through gritted teeth I screamed into the carpet.
The flames diminished into cooling tingles again. I felt strong, even as my body trembled. Pressure spread across my back, gently at first, then insistent. Oh no. My wings. My wings.
Fire raced through my spine and splintered outward, cascading across my back. My wings screamed in protest as they tried to burst through.
Stuck.
They were stuck on my shirt. Tarik’s shirt.
I focused, pushing every bit of energy I had into shoving them past the fabric. With a loud rip, my wings tore free, exploding to their full span. They roared with the same fire that furiously coursed through my body. The shredded shirt fluttered to the carpet.
Relief.
A last wave of tingling energy washed through me. Then ceased. I lay panting on the carpet, wings splayed across the floor, bracing for the lion that never took over. Shock pulled at my slipping mind. I couldn’t summon only my wings in human form—they weren’t a feature I could partial-shift. Once they were free, there was no stopping my full shifter transformation.
What was happen—
I inhaled a long, shuddering breath before the world fell dark.
“Reagan!”
I was officially the biggest jerk on the face of this planet.
As she fell to her knees, writhing in agony, my whole body froze. Completely unresponsive despite my brain screaming at me to move, to undo what I did. She curled forward, shaking like a leaf, and all I could do was think that I had killed her. Would my decisions forever cause death and destruction?
This was all my fault.
She screamed, and my limbs finally burst into action. I lunged for her hand, the one still gripping that stupid green rock. What had at first been playful was morphing into a nightmare. One I couldn’t wake from.
“Let go, Reagan!” I tried prying the crystal from her fingers but they were locked in place. Vices. Everything was a blur after that. With a rip, the shirt I’d given her fell from her trembling body. And then I was ducking and rolling as wings shot straight out. White. Brilliant.
I waited for the rest of the shift. Instead, she collapsed unconscious, her wings splayed wide on top of her.
The first thing I did was remove that blasted piece of rock from her slackened grip. I was tempted to throw the crystal off the balcony, but forced myself to pocket the object that had caused so much misery. Reagan had experienced adverse effects, but I had to test it on Haven. I knew she would be willing to accept the risks.
What surprised me was the half shift. She had never revealed her wings without her lion form before. Had the crystal caused a shift malfunction?
Kneeling next to her, I reached toward the left wing, curious if the feathers were as soft as they looked, then snatched my hand back. I doubted she wanted me to touch her, not after the cruel trick I had played.
But I couldn’t leave her on the floor either. Naked, once again. I groaned. She really needed specially-designed shifter clothing. For several moments, I simply watched her, the way her wings silently rose and fell with each breath. All by itself, my hand inched for those feathers again, gliding a finger down the length of one.
Softer than silk.
So different from my own.
A low huff of air caught my ear. “Oh no, please don’t. That tickles. And they’re so heavy . . .”
“Reagan?” My heart sped up. She was going to be okay. She had to. “Where do you hurt? Hold on, I’ll heal you—” But I stopped myself from touching her. Swallowed. Forced myself to say, “If you want me to, that is.”
“Honestly,” she began, swiveling her head in my direction, “I feel okay. You’re a prick, by the way, but thankfully I don’t have to hold this against you. I feel . . . rested. Energized. Is that normal?”
“Uh, yeah, I
