Today it was the shadows. Arietta sat curled up on her side, knees to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs. They'd injected her with something this morning, holding her down until fingers dug into the skin on her arms. No matter how much she thrashed, bit, grabbed, she couldn't fight them. Even as they jabbed a needle in her arm. As the injection flowed like lava through her veins.

Then her mind started with the tricks again. Yesterday there was blood and bugs. Today she was all alone in the darkness.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Something whispered behind her. Whimpering, she curled in tighter.

It's in your head. It's in your head. But the darkness never left. Instead, the shadows swallowed her up, chilling her skin even as the injection blazed in her blood.

How long would she be trapped here in this darkness?

She curled into herself, even as the whispers grew and grew and grew. Until they buzzed and swarmed around her, praying on her fears, highlighting her mistakes.

No one is looking for you.

You'll die here, having done nothing.

No one cares about you.

You got your mother killed.

You brought death and violence to the shifter's doorstep.

You're nothing.

Arietta slammed her palms over her ears. "No, no, no, no." The whispers blurred, until they turned into her mother's voice. You didn't save me.

"I'm sorry," she told her mother, "I'm sorry!"

She shuttered there in the dark, until finally, something broke through the cacophony of whispered mistakes.

Footsteps.

Arietta looked blindly through the shadows towards the sound. Would it be demons this time? Or maybe ghosts? She missed the bugs. She missed the blood.

"Get her up," a stern female voice ordered. "Reison wants to talk to her."

Buried deep beneath the shadows, her body flinched, reacting instinctively to that name. Icy hands wrapped around her elbows, hefting her upward. "No!" She shouted now for a different reason. Her brain couldn't tell her why, but her body knew enough: she did not want to talk to Reison.

And right now, with her mind playing tricks on her, her gut instincts and bodily reactions were the only things she could trust.

She kicked out blindly. A low curse. "Grab her!"

Another icy hand gripped her ankle firmly, then she was sitting up. Something hard and plastic settled beneath her. A chair.

"Stop!" She urged. "Stop!"

Straps buckled her into the chair before the hands left her.

But they didn't take the whispers with them. You've gotten the shifters killed. I told you not to tell anyone.

"I'm sorry, Mama," Arietta's head fell forward until her chin rested on her chest. "I'm sorry."

The grating squeak and groan of a door behind her opening was her only sign anything in the room changed. And then, from the darkness, a low, soft chuckle had white hot fear mixing with the lava already pouring through her veins.

She knew that chuckle. Even in her current state, her body and mind recognized danger.

Reison.

***

"This is ridiculous." Eoran stood from his spot at the curved table in the heads' council room.

Gavriel's leopard hated this room. This was where his leopard was told no. Where his people tried to restrict his rule and tell him how to lead.

Just as they were doing now.

"We do not have the resources," Eoran continued, "and none of this is our responsibility. She made her decision."

An inferno built beneath his skin. Gavriel grit his teeth.

Lianna stepped up next to him. Her shoulder brushed against his, a gesture of comfort between leopards. "That woman was the only person standing between us and the enemy. And she did it willingly. What does it say about us that we'd then leave her in their hands?"

"It says we are smart," Eoran fired back. "Unlike her, we cannot just go gallivanting into enemy territory."

Gavriel's leopard snarled. He curled his hand into a fist, shoring his defenses against the beast inside him. Even as his leopard raked its claws down that wall, keeping him locked in tight.

"Eoran has a point," Fay said. Her signature steel was in her tone. "We do not have the resources right now to worry about anyone outside our own."

"Do we not have responsibility, though?" Sienna asked. The deer shifter sat straighter in her chair. "Arietta gave us time. And enough power to defend ourselves."

"I agree," Henri said from the other side of the table. The man who had long since served as Gavriel's mentor traced his gaze over him. Something shifted behind Henri's eyes at whatever he found when looking at Gavriel. "She was the first to help our people get to a secure location." Henri tilted his head as he met Gavriel's gaze. "And when the battle turned, she did whatever was necessary to keep our people safe."

She kept his people safe. Just as she had promised him she would.

Gavriel's leopard whined.

Eoran scoffed. "We are sitting here arguing over an enemy. She is not one of ours."

"She may as well be," Lianna said under her breath. Only for Gavriel's ears. Gavriel felt Lianna's gaze on him. Waiting for him to play his ultimate card: the mate card.

But Gavriel hesitated. He did not want Arietta being his mate to be the reason the head elders finally agree to do something about Arietta's kidnapping.

Kidnapping.

Even thinking the word made his soul scream.

He wanted—no, would—save her. Whatever it took. He would not tell them she was his mate. Only those closest to him deserved to know until she knew herself.

He would make sure she knew. Even if it was the very last thing he said to her.

It was only his sense of responsibility to his people that held him back. What usually kept him steady—the weight of those who depended on him—now became chains holding him down.

Henri's spine went straight at Eoran's words. Gavriel locked onto the minuscule movement. He recognized that stance. As a child, that tiny action always had Gavriel backing up three steps automatically.

"Let's look at what makes an ally, shall we, Eoran?" Henri drawled.

"Do not talk to me like I am an infant—"

"An ally defends those they've allied with, provides resources and support when needed, and promises not to battle with those they've partnered with. Arietta has done all of that and more, especially when we were under attack."

"That does not mean—"

"And where were you?" Henri asked softly. The words felt like an explosion in the council room. "When we were under attack, I did not see you among those fighting."

Eoran's nostrils flared. "I was defending—"

"I also did not see you," Ries finally spoke. His arm was still in a sling across his body, an injury from when he fought to defend Talia, their healer, and the group of shifters attempting to do a supply run before they were attacked by wielders.

Eoran's face mottled an ugly red. "This entire conversation is preposterous. She is a wielder. She is an enemy! We have people here who are injured. And those who are dead. All because she led them right to our door." Eoran's face twisted as he spoke, a mass of rage. "Now you're wanting to go out and invite them back in again?"

Gavriel clenched his teeth. The leopard snarled and fought inside him for release. He would show them what strength was. He would not allow them to disrespect his mate.

Fay pressed both hands into the table in front of her. She stood. "There is a way for us to think about this carefully. Although I don't necessarily agree with Eoran, he has a point that going out to rescue this woman would put us at risk when we are already without supplies and grieving the loss of our people." She paused. "However, I think what we've failed to discuss is her ability. Do we want that power in the hands of our enemy? Or do we want that power with us, where we can monitor it?"

Gavriel's leopard went wild. And he refused to rein it in. "She is not a weapon to control." He snarled.

"She's not," Sienna agreed. "However, Fay is right. A controller, a magic wielder, in the hands of our enemy becomes a weapon." Although her voice was naturally more soft-spoken, Sienna's words felt like daggers of truth beneath his skin. "From what we've gathered so far about this Reison character, I have no doubt he will do one of two things—continue his horrid research and plan another attack on our land, or find a way to weaponise Arietta's magic. That makes it a danger for us."

A low growl started deep in the pit of Gavriel's stomach. His mind flashed him images of Arietta tied up, tortured, or cut apart like some kind of experiment.

Lianna squeezed Gavriel's arm in comfort. He barely felt it. Instead, his mind trapped him with images of Arietta broken, her echoing scream bouncing off the sides of his skull. The same scream he heard on the day of the attack.

When he could not protect her.

"—matter because either way right now we do not have the resources."

"—find a way to defend ourselves regardless—"

"—think it's better we come up with an actual plan rather than sit here and panic—"

"Our people are dead! We have loved ones to bury! Shouldn't be wasting our time debating—"

"Gavriel."

"—and we'll be burying more if we don't—"

The growl built and built in his stomach, reverberating up his spine, into his lungs, and through his vocal cords. It climbed the same way the anger did.

Arietta saved them. She brought Naya, his niece, back to her people, despite knowing she would be dead the moment she stepped into shifter territory. She made them aware of what the wielders planned. If she had not, they all very well might be dead. Or preparing pyres for more of their people.

And yet, it was not enough.

"Gavriel."

It would never be enough for the head elders. Because to them, when it came down to it, Arietta was a wielder. Not one of theirs.

"Gavriel!"

Gavriel turned and snarled in Lianna's face.

Lianna growled back, leopard to leopard. "Go take a walk." She ordered him.

Upper lip curling, Gavriel noted the silence. Everyone in the room looked at him, their expressions a mixture of irritation, confusion, and concern.

He could not stay here. Not when the heads were not ready to hear him out. To make the right decision.

Not when his soul felt so jagged and raw.

Exhaling sharply out of his nose, Gavriel turned and made himself take a walk.