“She made you kill my brother, Asher. How can you not want this?” I whispered; my hands flush against his broad chest.

My voice was back to normal, but the sickly veins of darkness crawling up my fingers remained. They’d gotten further this time around, creeping past my knuckles and onto the tops of my hands. The Shadows were silent, bloated on Rowena’s blood.

There were no whispers of fixing this because this time, the damage was irreversible.

Sprawled out in the dirt, covered in her own blood, Rowena muttered, “I didn’t make him do anything.”

Asher’s neck cracked as he craned his head to look down at her, a ripple of pure malice wracking his body and vibrating down the mate-bond. It wasn’t just me whose sanity was hanging by a frayed thread, but Asher too.

“Believe me, I want her dead and I want her to suffer first, but not at the cost of my mate. Look at your hands, Lola. Look at yourself.” Asher said in a low voice, one laced with caution.

I kept my eyes locked on his face, even a