Aylin stopped abruptly, eyes wide as the black char began to overtake the tendrils. I swallowed the lump in my throat as if it were bad medicine. For Mitch's sake, he'd better be right.
Watching Aylin struggle, I realized what true torture was. She screamed, her pain and fear amplified.
I risked a step closer, ready to pounce into the octagon.
Aylin gritted her teeth from the strain of the fight. Prior to this moment, I would have said torture was physical abuse to one's body, like having your fingernails ripped off one at a time, or having each bone in your body broken.
Nope! Not anymore. That type of torture was child's play compared to watching the love of your life fight a battle that you couldn't assist in.
She struggled against one black char that tightened with each wiggle she made. It wrapped its body around her and squeezed.
“No!” I shouted, shaking the cages boundaries.
“Let go.” Thomas spoke from the other side. “I only warn once.”
“Like hell.” I pounded against the walls, pleased when the octagon shifted. I connected another blow, fire exploded from the cage, making me fall backward. My hand burned from the heat.
I approached the cage again.
“I won't be so nice next time.” Thomas's voice sent chills down my body and made me believe every word he spoke.
Mitch wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me back. I fought, like a man struggling for his last breath. But I couldn't escape and save Aylin. This was torture. I would go a lifetime and not ever want to experience this type of torment again. This powerlessness. This weakness.
After I stopped struggling, Mitch released me and I dropped to my knees. I prayed Aylin's suffering would stop. She fell from the air with a light thud onto the forest's floor. I scrambled to my feet and, breathing heavily, inched forward.
The young freckle-faced Thomas collected a bow and several arrows that he meticulously stored in a bag, ignoring my approach.
I would deal with him later.
Aylin?
Her eyes met mine.
Everything else evaporated. The distance, Mitch, Luna, even the red cage that had held her captive moments ago. No one existed but the red firecracker who smirked at me as I grabbed her into a tight hug.
“I'm so sorry.” I apologized for everything, repeating those words over again. I kissed her chastely and ran my hands up and down her arms, the gesture reassuring me that she was safe and unharmed.
I wiped tears from her eyes and kissed her again.
“It's okay.” I assured her as much as myself.
“I'm good. I think.” Her voice wavered.
I pulled her next to my side, unwilling to let her go.
“I'm good, Connor.” She stepped away, but twined her fingers with mine and squeezed.
I smiled and returned her squeeze. Thankful for our connection. Happy to have her by my side and accepting my support and me. “Good.”
“You going to tell her, or just stand there with stars in your eyes?” Mitch asked.
The idiot.
“Tell me what?” Aylin glared at Mitch, her hatred pouring into our bond like molten lava. Then her scowl moved to me. She took a cautious step back.
“Aylin, hon.” I tried to pull her closer, but she resisted.
“Don't hon me, Connor. What's going on?” She tilted her head, encouraging me to spill my guts.
How did you tell someone that her home, her stuff were gone? Poof!
“For goodness sakes! Your house burnt down,” Mitch spat out.
Well, that was not exactly how I would have said it.
“What?” She slapped her hand over her mouth, as if to hold in her gasp.
“Hon...” I pointed in the direction where the black smoke rolled over the trees. The fading smell of smoked meat and burnt wood tickled the night air. “When I arrived, your house had been ransacked. I was checking the rooms to make sure no one was there when I noticed an odor of rotten eggs. Then Mitch appeared and practically shoved me out the door as the place blew up.”
Aylin shoved Mitch. “You sonofabitch.” The words rolled off her tongue like dominoes toppling in sequence. “Why'd you blow up my house? It's not enough for you to try to kill me. Now, you destroy my house and everything in it?”
“I didn't do it. He probably did.” Mitch pointed to the freckled-face boy, who quivered at Mitch's glare.
“I...I... I don't deal in explosives,” the boy stuttered.
“No, but I know dang well you make machines and magic spells with more power than bombs,” Mitch countered.
Luna pushed between the two men. “Mitch, Thomas wouldn't do that. You know this. He's with us.”
“You sure?” Mitch raised his shirt. “He tried to kill me tonight.”
Luna eyed the scar and turned toward the bag holding Thomas's arrows. “That wasn't made by one of his arrows.”
“What makes you so sure?” I asked. “He has the weapons, the opportunity, and the motive based on Mitch's actions. They don't appear friendly either.”
“Because Thomas wouldn't hurt you. Would you, Tommy?” Luna asked.
“Yes, I would.” Thomas's defiant his stance contradicted his shaking hands. “But, unfortunately, it wasn't me.”
“No offense, guys, but I don't care about an arrow. I care about my house.” Aylin pointed toward the ruins. “I need to see for myself. God, Connor, is it all gone?”
I wiped a tear from her face and nodded. “I'm so sorry.”
“If I find out who did this, I’ll put an arrow in their heart myself.”
The righteousness in her voice matched my own vow. I will protect her with my life.
“I want to see my house, Connor. Liam can wait.”
“Agreed. Luna, we need to take you to Liam's. You two”—I pointed to Tommy and Mitch— “should leave. I'm surprised the trackers haven't detained you yet.”
Luna, Aylin, and I walked back to Aylin's house while Mitch and Tommy disappeared in the forest. Aylin's dread flowed through our bond, weighing down each step. Her hesitation slowed our progress. I placed my hand on her lower back, trying to support her. I would not stop until we figured out what was going on and who was behind
