“What happened?!” Brokk’s voice cracked, as he sprinted, dropping to his best friend’s side in an instant. Alby’s eyes were wide, as he grappled with his words, his mouth opening and closing.
Brokk urged, “Alby, what happened?”
The doors at the end of the hallway were thrown open, and Brokk stood, slowly taking in the group rushing toward them. Roque stormed down the hall, Nei and Bresslin at his heels, Tadeas and his entourage flanking them. Roque looked at them, narrowing his eyes to slits.
“Foster! What are you doing here? I told the teachers to issue a temporary room curfew effective immediately.”
Roque’s words were just white noise, as Brokk saw Adair filing slowly in at the end of the hallway, looking like he had just been through a war.
“Foster, I suggest you answer the question,” Roque spoke quietly and slowly, and Brokk flicked his gaze up to the man for a second, truly taking him in. And what Brokk saw, for the first time in years, scared him. Rage contorted their leader’s features into one unrecognizable. One that consumed the man and left a person that had nothing left to lose.
He took a step back. “I was just looking for Memphis.”
Alby cut in, “He did it. Adair used his ability against Memphis.”
Brokk barely took in the next couple of seconds. Roque stiffened, turning slowly to look at Adair limping behind them all, his hooded eyes swept down to the floor, not realizing that everyone had focused in on him.
He hurt Memphis.
His nails dug into his skin, his body quivering. Brokk’s body responded before his mind could. He felt his weight shift, anger flaring through his veins, electrifying every move as he sprang forward. He pushed past Roque, yells coming from behind him.
But it was like he was being funneled down, swept away, with only one objective.
To make Adair pay.
His blood coursed through his veins, wildly alive, and Brokk lost himself to his adrenaline. His bones cracked, and the world splintered as he flew, landing heavily as a wolf, his lean body and golden fur rippling, his growl tearing through him.
The King of the Shattered Isles slammed himself flush to the wall, looking with wide eyes when Brokk came charging past. The rest of his company followed suit, and Brokk snapped his massive maws at them.
They should be afraid.
Adair’s head snapped up, shadows and malice dancing across his face. Brokk didn’t care about what the Faes were saying. Or the Strattons. Or the strange new King. All that had ever mattered to him was his family.
When it came to him, it didn’t have to do with blood. Memphis was his best friend, and their bond was as strong as any kinship. They looked after each other and always had. Always would.
The coldness of the hallway sent shivers up his limbs as his body was tugged sideways, slamming into the concrete, bones cracking. Ice slicked the hallways, as Bresslin sauntered up behind him.
“Mom, no!” Adair lurched forward, his skin draining of any color.
Brokk recovered himself, his nails as sharp as any blade, and they dug into the pale ice. A deep thrumming overtook his senses. He was two lunges away from Adair, and his hackles rose on his back. Bresslin would never reach him in time, and she wouldn’t attack him, not with the Faes there.
Adair was a liar, always waiting for the opportune moment to tear their group apart.
It ended now.
Adair stopped, slowly raising his chin, fists clenching at his sides. Snapping his massive jaws, spittle flying, Brokk welcomed his rage, his defiance. It wouldn’t be a fair fight any other way.
His muscles tensed, and he lowered his body, preparing to cut through the air.
“Brokk, NO!” Emory screamed, throwing herself in front of him as she grabbed his paw, her green eyes alit. His world came crashing down around him. His back slammed into the floor, winding him, as every ounce of strength, every ounce of himself, was gone.
Emory stood above him, gritting her teeth, and Brokk knew she was barely holding on to the new surge of ability soaking into her bones. His ability.
“What are you doing?” Emory asked. Each word was forced, and she looked down to him, shielding Adair behind her.
Her grip tightened around his wrist, and Brokk licked his dry lips, searching desperately for his power, both the wolf and the other. The secret he had held close to his heart for years. The secret he had made sure to keep from his best friends, knowing if he ever got himself into this situation, that she would know in a split second.
Her eyebrows furrowed and sweat slicked her forehead. Brokk wanted to scream at her, to stop, to try to not figure it out. He didn’t understand it himself. They had transcended time, and Brokk wanted to form any coherent sentences, to explain. Instead, panic flooded through him, about what he had almost done and about what Emory now knew.
Pulse fluttering underneath her pinning ability, she leaned in closer, whispering only to him. “This isn’t over. Don’t kill him, okay?”
Letting him go, Brokk shuddered, his ability slamming back into his marrow; relief washed over him. It was like returning home after being caught in a storm. Warm and familiar, he clutched his head, losing himself in the feeling. He never wanted to let go.
“Roque, this can’t be tolerated!” Bresslin exclaimed.
Sitting up, Brokk watched Bresslin chasing after Roque, the rest of the group hanging back. Roque stormed right up to him, and Brokk froze. Their leader lowered himself, so he was eye-to-eye with Brokk, his breathing heavy.
For a moment, they stayed like this, sizing up the other. Roque ran a hand
