Excerpt: Magical Midlife Challenge

Chapter 1

I trailed my fingertips along the muscular arm draped across my middle, which was illuminated by the butter-yellow sunlight pouring through the window.

Crap. It was morning. The challenge was in a scant few hours.

A flare of nervousness jiggled my stomach. Closing my eyes, I pulled in a deep breath, expanding my chest, and then let it out nice and slow as I opened them again. I looked at Austin, soaking him in, and flattened my palm on his big shoulder. He lay on his stomach with his left cheek buried in the pillow, his face pointed at me. The sheets bunched across his hips, revealing his broad, muscular back.

A sense of profound serenity welled up inside me, calming the swirl of turbulent emotion from the moment before.

Ever since we’d claimed each other as mates three weeks ago, I’d felt utterly at peace within his presence. There was a new warmth inside of me that grew with every glance he gave me, sang with every touch. I felt weightless and as though I were always glowing.

Most people would attribute this to love.

It wasn’t love.

Well…it wasn’t just love. Because yes, I loved this man with everything in me. He’d earned my trust through friendship before he captured my heart. But there was more to my feelings than adoration and romance.

My gargoyle was expressing a primal satisfaction in the strength and prowess of her mate. Which, great, I could handle that. I liked it, in fact. What I couldn’t handle was the insane jealousy that came with it, or the crazy protectiveness. If anyone so much as looked at Austin the wrong way, I had to fight the incredible urge to throw that person across the room.

I didn’t always win that fight.

A rhythmic buzz pulsed from the alarm clock, startling me. I reached over and turned it off.

I’d learned in the past that Austin would ignore the alarm’s loud blast for ten minutes or more before finally rolling over to slap it. Given it was ten minutes of agony for me, a mother who’d acquired the curse of light sleeping after my son was born nineteen years ago, I’d decided that I’d be the guardian of the alarm and make sure he got up. It really wasn’t so hard.

I turned on my side, facing him, and trailed my fingertips across his cheek. I felt along his soft, plush lips and over his square chin. Moving on down, I brushed my fingers across his throat.

He shivered, and his exposed eyelid fluttered open. A beautiful cobalt-blue eye regarded me for a moment before it drifted shut again. His mouth curled at the corner, a sleepy smile, before his arm constricted.

I squealed as he dragged me closer, turning me onto my back. In a powerful, fluid movement, he settled his large, hard body over mine, pushing me into the mattress. Sleeping naked, the way we almost always did, had its perks.

“Morning, baby,” he murmured, capturing my lips with his. His kiss was deep and passionate, and the slow thrust of his body pushed out all the breath in my lungs.

I meant to say good morning back, but instead I hugged him closer and moaned into his continued kiss.

“We don’t have as much time as I’d like, so we’re going to have to knock this out quickly,” he murmured.

A wave of nervousness stole through me again.

“Shh, shh,” he said, feeling my reaction through the Ivy House bond or our mating bond—probably both. “It’s going to be fine. Just focus on me right now. Focus on this.”

He reached between our bodies to massage me right where I needed it. His movements increased in speed, his body working between my thighs, and I did what he said. I let the pleasure of his body sliding against mine—the delicious ache of him inside me—crush the fear and anxiety. I lost myself in his touch.

Almost too soon I was writhing under him, hitting my high and crying out his name. He wasn’t far behind, shuddering against me.

His kiss turned languid before he backed off, both of us breathing heavily.

“Good morning,” I finally managed. “Sleep well?”

His smile tightened me up all over again. It was a great time for this midlife lady to be hitting her sexual peak. Although…I guess I was no longer middle-aged. Thanks to Ivy House magic, I didn’t have an expiration date anymore. The only way I’d exit this life was by murder. And if I shared the fate of the past Ivy House heirs, my murder would be gruesome and at the hands of my mate.

Luckily, I hadn’t chosen a young, power-hungry jerk who would try to steal my magic and take my life in the process. Austin didn’t even want what was offered, which was the protector’s magic. That magic was supposed to boost his power and likely his speed and strength. He’d be like a super shifter, or so everyone guessed. But he didn’t want the baggage that came with it. He said he had enough darkness swirling within him—he didn’t need to add my gargoyle’s brand of dark violence.

I definitely saw his point. When my primal urges rose to the surface, I wasn’t exactly stable…

“How about some breakfast?” he asked.

I smiled. “Yes, please.”

He kissed me one last time before getting out of bed.

“Do you want a day off from cooking?” I asked, swinging my feet over the edge of the mattress before standing. “Mr. Tom would be all too happy to come in and take care of it.”

He paused with his boxers in his hand. The flat look he gave me spoke volumes.

I laughed and threaded my arms around his middle. “I feel bad that you’ve been cooking so much for me. You never let me help.”

“You hate helping, and I love cooking for you. It’s not a chore, baby. You know that.”

“I know, but…” I paused as he kissed my forehead before moving away to finish getting dressed. “Usually I don’t spend so much time over here.”

“I like that you’re spending so much time over here.” He stepped into a pair of sweats. “And I really like the way you look at me when I’m cooking.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I turned away and grabbed some underwear and sweats from the drawer he’d given me for my things.

It was true. I’d always dreamed of having a man cook for me, and Austin had the added benefit of being incredibly hot. Cooking shows had always bored me, but to this one, I was riveted.

That wasn’t why I was spending so much time over here, away from Ivy House.

Another flurry of emotions rocked me.

He paused, his gaze turning intense.

He knew this surge of anxiety wasn’t about the challenge later today. He could feel through the bonds that this unease was rooted more deeply, the implications more extreme. He also knew from experience that I didn’t want to talk about it. That I used the dreaded “I’m fine” when he asked.

But honestly, what was there to talk about? I didn’t know what was causing this rush of anxiety. This was different than the crazy, violent side of my gargoyle, but it still seemed primal somehow. I just had this horrible feeling that danger loomed heavy around me. It crouched in the shadows, waiting to strike.

I had no proof. In the three weeks since Elliot Graves’s meetup, all had been quiet on the mage front. Rumors about my magic and power level abounded on magical social media, but there was no speculation about what might happen next. I’d received no threats nor any invitations from mages. It seemed as though life was continuing as normal.

Until I set foot on Ivy House soil. And then, suddenly, it felt like storm clouds were drifting in, carrying disaster within them. It felt like a drum beat through me, warning of danger, urging me to take arms, preparing me to fight.

But was that actual danger or just this blasted gargoyle freaking me the hell out? Like when that random guy at the bar patted Austin on the back in thanks for a free beer—throwing said guy across the room and against the wall hadn’t been rational. Not even remotely. And neither was this situation. There had been no warning signs. No one had snuck in to attack. There hadn’t been any word from the Mages Guild, either requesting information concerning Graves or just wanting to make contact. There was absolutely no reason to feel worried, especially since it had only been three weeks. Three weeks of rumors did not a panic situation make.

So yeah, to avoid the feeling of impending doom, not to mention Ivy House harping on about accepting the gargoyle’s inherent craziness, I avoided the place. I stayed at Austin’s, where my gargoyle was (mostly) soothed, the environment was tastefully decorated and incredibly comfortable, and my hot boyfriend turned mate cooked for me and pampered me and made love to me.

Though yes, I also knew this couldn’t last forever. I’d have to return eventually. Mr. Tom had made that abundantly clear, often from just off Austin’s kitchen balcony, where he waited for me every morning.

Austin, half-dressed because he knew I liked to watch his bare upper body when he cooked, turned me toward him and braced his hands lightly on my cheeks. I looked up into his eyes.

The turbulence raging through me eased…and then dimmed…and then fell away altogether.

“I love you,” he said, his gaze rooted to something deep inside of me. “I will protect you. I will make sure nothing happens to you.”

I melted against his touch. “I know,” I whispered.

He held our gaze—our connection—for another moment before kissing my forehead and stepping away. “I’ll get breakfast started. No need for that bra.”

“There is definitely a need for this bra. It’s morning. Mr. Tom is already waiting for me, I can feel it. Along with Edgar and, for some reason, Ulric.”

I could feel them through the magical bond created by Ivy House. They were all gathered outside Austin’s house in Mr. Tom’s usual spot.

Usually, it was just Mr. Tom waiting below the balcony off the kitchen every morning. I wondered what was up with the others.

Austin headed down before me, leaving me to finish getting dressed, and I followed him a few minutes later with a shirt on but no socks or slippers.

He’d already set to work in the kitchen, pulling out eggs and sausages from the fridge. There was a cluster of fruit on the counter, waiting to be cut up. I grabbed a couple of mugs from the cabinet, laughing when I noticed his apron—a large arrow pointed up to his face, followed by This guy rubs his own meat.

Austin noticed and grinned. “Kingsley sent me a care package. He said Earnessa has some things for you, but you’ll have to retrieve them in person. It’s his way of inviting us to his territory.”

I set the mugs onto the counter before lifting the pot filled with freshly percolated coffee. Austin was excellent at timing his morning routine.

“Did you tell him that Sebastian thinks Momar plans to wipe him out? Soon, I mean.”

Momar was a big-shot mage in the magical world who was currently trying to take out shifter packs. We’d heard Kingsley was next on the list, but we didn’t know exactly when he planned to attack.

Austin didn’t respond for a long moment. I felt his unease through our bonds.

“Not in so many words,” he finally said. “He’s seen the signs, though. Mages have been skirting the periphery of his territory. He thinks they’re assessing his sentries. Based on what he’s heard from the shifter community, next they’ll assess his defenses. After that…”

“They’ll attack.”

A huge swell of power filled me, darkness swirling within the magic. My anger heated to rage, my frustration only making the mixture more combustible. My vision blurred, and my head went light. A loud crash had me stepping back. Scalding liquid splashed across my front, but I barely felt it. My gargoyle pounded inside of me, feeling the call of war—wanting to rush to the aid of an ally in danger.

“Whoa, whoa. We have a bit of time.” I felt Austin’s hand smooth down my back and then over the area where wings would sprout in my gargoyle form. “Sebastian confirmed it, remember? Not much, but we do have some time. It’s okay.”

“I know.” I squeezed my eyes shut, tempering the surge of power. “I’m good.”

A bit of an overstatement. My gargoyle was soothed in Austin’s presence…until incited. That was where the mostly part came in. Unfortunately, inciting it was pretty easy, I was discovering.

“I’m good.” I breathed deeply, focusing on his touch. “I’m good.”

I took another couple deep breaths until the power and strong emotion started to ebb, and then I let my eyes drift open.

The mug lay in pieces on the floor, resting in a puddle of steaming coffee. The liquid surrounded my toes and most of my right foot, but it still didn’t hurt. More coffee had splattered the counter. The mug must’ve hit the edge and shattered before continuing to the floor.

“Careful, there.” Austin hooked his hands under my arms and lifted me like a child, swiveling and depositing me out of harm’s way. “You don’t want to step on one of those shards. It’ll take me forever to get the glass out of your foot.”

“Sorry,” I said. “Here, I’ll get—”

“No.” Austin stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. His eyes were so warm, so kind. “Why don’t you head outside and talk to your people? I’ll bring out a fresh cup, okay? Take a breather.”

I couldn’t stop the thankful tears welling in my eyes. I rested my palms on his hard chest. “Why are you so amazing?”

His thumb traveled lightly across my chin. “Only you think I’m amazing. Everyone else thinks I’m a stone-hearted SOB.”

I smiled as he leaned down to kiss me.

“Probably for the best,” I murmured against his lips. “That way, they leave you alone, and I don’t get the urge to throttle them or toss them through doors.”

He laughed, turned me around, and gave me a small shove toward the sliding glass door that led to the balcony. “Go talk to that weird collection of people you have working for you. Tell Mr. Tom not to crush all of my flowers.”

 

Chapter 2

 

The fresh mountain air greeted me as I stepped onto the balcony. I took two deep breaths, further clearing my mind, and then walked around the grill and approached the railing.

Standing just before the slope covered in azure-blue wildflowers and buttercups were Edgar, Mr. Tom, and Ulric, a little removed from the others.

“Hey, guys.” I bent to lean my elbows on the railing. Austin met me a moment later with a fresh mug of coffee. He set it on the railing beside me, glanced down at the others, and left without saying a word.

“Ah, yes, your morning cup of brew,” Mr. Tom said, entwining his fingers at his waistline. His wings, draped down his back like a cape, fluttered in irritation. “Pity you have to traipse all the way down to the kitchen to get it. If you’d just let me see to you in the morning instead of making me wait in this makeshift garden like a common criminal, you wouldn’t have to do things the shifter way.”

Mr. Tom wasn’t completely on board with my mating a shifter. He’d really hoped I’d find a gargoyle for that “honor.”

When I didn’t respond, Mr. Tom continued. “How about breakfast, miss? I trust Mr. Steele is seeing to that for you? He must know how you hate to cook. It isn’t something the mistress of Ivy House should lower herself to do, anyway.”

“He cooks for her regularly,” Edgar said as he scooted forward a little. “She is always so delighted with his creations. What’s for breakfast this morning, Jessie?”

I ran my fingers through my unruly hair. They got caught halfway through. “Eggs and sausage, maybe? Fresh fruit.”

“Hmm, sounds delicious.” Edgar rubbed his belly, the action for show. He was a vampire, and all he’d eaten in the last…way too many years to count was blood. I doubted he even remembered how food tasted. Still, he knew how much I liked to gush about Austin’s cooking and gave me ample opportunity to do so.

“Edgar, did you have something to tell the miss?” Mr. Tom asked. His tone dripped with disapproval.

Edgar wilted where he stood. He clasped his long, spindly fingers with the yellowed, pointed nails. “Jessie,” he began, “I regret to inform you that I have made a grave oversight. I must ask you, therefore, to retire me. I am not fit for my post.”

I wilted just like Edgar. For the undead, “retiring” didn’t mean sitting around in a houseboat or tapping a cane grumpily whenever anyone came near them. Retiring Edgar would force him from existence—something he asked me to do every time he felt he’d messed up.

“Mr. Tom, really?” I asked in annoyance. “I thought we talked about this. No one will be retiring Edgar. Stop goading him into asking for it.”

“First, I had hoped he’d lead with the grievance and not go straight to retiring. I apologize for that. I should’ve known better—”

“Oh, no, Jessie, in this case, he is dead right,” Edgar said, then leaned forward a little and winked at me. “See what I did there? Dead right?” He chuckled to himself before sobering. “No, there really is nothing else to be done. Aside from trying to rid Ivy House of the infestation, of course. I’ll do that posthaste, don’t you worry. I know my job, even if I did lapse on it a little.”

“A little?” Mr. Tom asked.

“Infestation?” I asked, my brow furrowing. “What has infest—”

“Tell her what you’ve done, Edgar,” Mr. Tom pushed.

Edgar regarded me solemnly again. “Miss Jessie, I regret to inform you that I have allowed a gnome infestation on Ivy House lands. I knew one of the creatures had made its home there but forgot how quickly they colonize. I should have seen to that instead of spending so much time here amongst the lovely wildflowers and few weaponized flowers while chasing the perfect doily—”

“Weaponized flowers?” I said, looking around the forest floor. “Like the ones the basajaun had to wrestle after they got out of hand and tried to kill everyone? Where are they—”

“The good news is I have gotten very close to perfection, I think. Very, very close. I’ve left a few of my very best doilies on the welcome mat for Mr. Alpha to peruse at his leisure. I think he will be very happy with—”

“For the last time, Edgar, he doesn’t want your doilies,” Mr. Tom cut in irritably. “There is a specific style of décor that can be outfitted with your doilies, and that style belongs to insufferable Irishwomen with no taste. It is rude to force doilies on the unsuspecting. A better use for them would be to give them to Hollace and Cyra. Hollace likes to throw them up like the clay targets in skeet shooting so Cyra can try to burn them out of the sky. Now that is a great use of your talents in the doily arena.”

“Here.” Austin set a second cup of coffee on the railing, glancing down at the Ivy House crew. Ulric had scooted farther away from Mr. Tom and Edgar. “Drink up. It sounds like you’ll need it.”

I couldn’t help chuckling. Grabbing his apron to keep him put, I leaned into him for a moment, and we shared in the joke that was Mr. Tom and Edgar. You just had to be incredibly patient to get to the punch line.

“Breakfast in fifteen,” he said gruffly when I let him go. “Don’t invite the others.”

I laughed harder.

Mr. Tom and Edgar ignored Austin, immersed in an argument about doilies and how appropriate it was to use them as the equivalent of clay pigeons.

“Did you need something?” I asked Ulric.

His eyes were tight. He hooked a thumb at Edgar. “Just so we’re clear, I have nothing to do with…whatever is going on here. I’m not with them. I didn’t notice the gnomes when I was walking out this morning.”

“They are quite wily, I assure you,” Edgar said, quickly changing gears. It left Mr. Tom arguing with himself. “They are good at hiding in the garden. But when you least expect it—bam! Gnome attack.”

“No,” I said in a long release of breath. “Tell me they aren’t like the dolls.”

“Yes, miss.” Mr. Tom slid Edgar a narrow-eyed look. “I am afraid they are. Ivy House likes to pit them against the dolls when she’s feeling particularly…cantankerous. I do not mean to call into question your decision-making, but hiding away here, leaving behind your duties as the Ivy House heir, has created some…turbulence in the house.”

“I know about the house’s mood, Mr. Tom,” I said dryly before finishing the first cup of coffee and starting on the second.

“Um…if I may.” Ulric took another step away from Mr. Tom and Edgar. “Miss, you know how you said I had a green light to tell my mother she could gossip about my place with you? That she could feed the chatter about a female gargoyle so word would get out more quickly to prominent cairns, since she’s a world-class networker?”

“Yes?”

“Well, most of the gargoyle community, with my mom’s help, is in a fervor. You’re getting connection requests from all over the world. My mom has never seen gossip spread this quickly.”

“I assume—”

“Hmm, now that smells good, Miss Jessie,” Edgar interrupted me. “You are really going to enjoy today’s breakfast.”

Everyone paused to look at him. He was clearly no longer following the conversation.

Mr. Tom pursed his lips, taking up the conversational baton. “Usually, the larger, more prestigious cairns would send an invitation, wanting any new cairn to attend to them as a way of showing their status. The lower-status cairns would send a connection request. That is their way of saying they realize your status is above theirs and, if you should want to meet them, they would come to you.”

“And so far I’ve only received connection requests from the smaller cairns?” I surmised. “How long do the larger cairns usually take to send an invite?”

Ulric grinned and shook his head, his pink-and-blue-dyed hair ruffling in the breeze. “The larger cairns haven’t been sending invites. Most of them, anyway. They’ve been sending connection requests. They’re already declaring you of high status in the gargoyle community.”

“Well, of course they are.” Mr. Tom puffed up his chest. “She is the Ivy House heir. She is of the highest status.”

“It’s sounding like they will bend over backward to gain the favor of the only living female gargoyle in the world,” Ulric said. “Those who believe, anyway, and most of them seem to. I don’t think we’ve heard from the cairns with the highest status, but my mom thinks that’s because they want to make a show of their connection requests. They want to stand out.”

“Well…that’s good news, right?” I asked, my mood lifting.

Austin was working on getting his shifter pack organized so we’d be ready to help Kingsley stand against Momar. The basajaun was off visiting his family, trying to arrange a meeting between them and my crew. If they chose to support us in the coming battle, I would have to do them a favor in return.

My piece was getting the gargoyles united and into a sort of army of my own, something Ulric and Sebastian had said was the duty of a female gargoyle. To be the commander. The leader. Ulric had thought his mother would be our best bet for alerting the masses. So far, so good.

“Very good news,” Ulric said, although I could feel through the bond that his pride was tempered by discomfort. “There’s only one thing.”

I lifted my eyebrows for him to go on.

He grimaced. “She’s convinced you are going to need someone knowledgeable in gargoyle politics to help navigate the…fragile egos, she called them. Cairn leaders can be prickly, but more than that, they act a lot like shifters in that they force you to show dominance. If you don’t, they won’t respect you.”

“They are much harder-headed than shifters,” Edgar said. “Much more stubborn. And also…quite a bit stinkier. They don’t seem to know what a shower or deodorant is for—”

“Yes, thank you, Edgar.” Mr. Tom glowered at him. “The gargoyles in town are just young, that’s all. They’re bachelors. Not all gargoyles exhibit a lack of hygiene.”

“Of course, yes. But certainly much less hygiene than shifters, that’s all I’m saying. Much less washing, I think. Less soap—”

“Breakfast,” Austin said, leaning against the frame of the sliding glass door.

“Gargoyles have different rules than shifters,” Ulric continued, frowning at Edgar. He probably wondered if Edgar was talking about him. “Their politics are different. My mom is convinced that you need someone to help you navigate these meetings.”

“Dominance is no problem,” Austin growled. “As her mate and the alpha of this territory, I can take that role if she can’t.” He looked at me. “But he does have a point about politics. I can probably navigate it, but you should be in the lead when it comes to the gargoyles.”

“And that is what she has me and the miserable old woman for,” Mr. Tom said indignantly, standing up a little taller. “I can help her navigate the demands of gargoyle cairn leaders—I’ve known many in my day—and the old crone can work with the miss on politics. I hate to admit it, but Niamh has quickly gotten up to speed on the goings-on in the magical world. She used to be a political animal. Excessive drinking and an overall disregard for social conformity aside, she does know her stuff. No, we’ll be okay. Go in and eat, miss. I’ll watch over things from my dirty dwelling down here, sequestered to the plant life like some sort of wild creature.”

“Yes, you’d do the job very well…if you weren’t so far out of the loop,” Ulric said to Mr. Tom delicately.

“He probably doesn’t even know there is a loop,” Edgar added, not so delicately. “Even in his prime, he probably wasn’t aware of the loop.”

“Right.” Ulric’s lips twitched, probably with the effort not to laugh. “I, myself, don’t know the politics of cairn leaders. Nathanial was being groomed to take over a cairn, but he wasn’t there yet. He only has the broad strokes. Even just to go through the connection requests, you’ll need someone who can read nuances. I wouldn’t know what to look for.”

“So what do I need to do, then?” I asked. “I’d rather not try a summons. I’m not…in the right frame of mind just now. I worry about what I’d call.”

Ulric tensed. “Um…well…my mom decided that since you don’t have anyone trustworthy to help you…” He cleared his throat. “She volunteered. Then just…accepted her own invitation and made plans to come here and help.”

Mr. Tom turned just his upper body in Ulric’s direction. His wings fluttered in agitation. “I beg your pardon?”

“Sorry, Jessie,” Ulric said, wariness and anxiety rolling through the bond now. He was usually the happy-go-lucky member of our team. I wasn’t used to this change in demeanor. “I told her that you’d need to be consulted before she just turned up and took over. But…you see…my mom is a really hard woman to say no to. You can try, but she just doesn’t listen. So…she’s on her way.” He put out his hands in a stop motion. “But don’t worry! I got her a room at the hotel. I’m sure the alpha can scare some sense into her. I mean, no cairn leader has been able to yet, but…well…” He shrugged helplessly. “Or Ivy House can keep her from bombarding you. You won’t have to be the bad guy, Jessie, I promise. I have a hard time saying no to her, but I’m sure someone else can figure out how so that you don’t have to.” He wilted like Edgar had earlier. “I’ll probably need to join Edgar in asking to be retired after this.”

“Yes, that sounds like something worthy of retirement.” Edgar nodded solemnly. “At least in our final hours we’ll have each other.”

Ulric looked over at the vampire. “Awesome,” he said flatly.

I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. No matter what happened, or how much power I had, or how many problems I had with that power, I could always count on my team to be the most absurd bunch of weirdos in the history of the world. How could anyone take us seriously? The mages certainly hadn’t…until we scared the crap out of them. I doubted the gargoyles would be so easy to intimidate. Regardless, this was now my lot in life.

“Sure, fine.” I took up both mugs and turned for the kitchen. “If she can help us unite the gargoyles, she’ll be welcomed.”

“I just hope she won’t be bringing her own cooler full of food?” Mr. Tom asked as I crossed the threshold.

I laughed again. My parents’ visit had clearly scarred him.

Taking a deep breath, I set the mugs on the counter and saw that the table had been set. Given we almost always sat at the island, this was unusual.

I quirked an eyebrow at Austin.

He refilled one of the mugs. “I thought the table might ground you more,” he said by way of explanation. He motioned me toward it.

I didn’t budge, waiting for the real reason.

If controlling his expressions weren’t part of his role as alpha, he’d absolutely be giving me a sheepish grin right now. “I can’t hear Mr. Tom and Edgar bickering as well from the table.”

“Hmm,” I said noncommittally, a smile threatening, then took a seat. “Was my discussion with my crew just now how your meetings with your advisors go?”

He snorted. “My territory would be in a world of hurt if that’s how my meetings went.”

He lowered a plate in front of me. Eggs Benedict took up the center focus, the sauce whipped up to perfection. Chives provided a pop of green against the glistening, lemon-colored sauce. Fresh fruit was clustered to the side, far enough away that none of the pooling liquid touched it. I was weird about food touching on my plate unless it was supposed to, like a child. Another plate held two sausage links bathed in maple syrup and crispy hash browns beside a glop of ketchup.

“Wow,” I said, picking up my knife and fork and just looking over everything.

He took his seat next to me at the round table, a setup that allowed him to watch my reaction to each bite. He loved seeing me enjoy his handiwork.

“A Sunday morning breakfast on a Tuesday? What’s the occasion?” I cut into the egg and was rewarded with the delicate ooze of yolk over the Canadian bacon and down to the fluffy English muffin below it. “My God, you are good at cooking. The egg is perfect.”

His smile was soft as he watched me pop the bite into my mouth. After that, I lost track of him as my eyes drifted shut of their own accord and the flavors exploded across my tongue.

“You need fuel for your challenge later this morning,” he said, and nervousness fluttered in my belly at the reminder. Austin had been challenged plenty of times, but this would be my first. “Magical creatures who shift require more sustenance than those who don’t.”

“If it were anyone else’s cooking, I’d be too nervous to eat.” I cut another bite. “But it would be a pity to let this go to waste.”

He chuckled softly before attacking his own meal. “Can I speak to you about Kingsley or should we…wait?” he asked.

Nervousness was replaced by another swirl of anger and motivation—the urge to inhale this meal and take to the sky. To go to war.

My spinning emotions, like a disco ball of violence, were exhausting. They were so much worse since the mating. Or since Elliot Graves’s meeting, at least. It was like the gargoyle within me had fully woken and now wanted a reign of terror.

“It’s fine,” I replied.

Austin nodded as he speared a piece of sausage. He didn’t share my love of coating them in maple syrup. “Kingsley forwarded an email detailing a mage attack on a smaller pack. The pack wasn’t completely wiped out, but they were essentially chased off their land.”

“Another one?” I asked, because that had been increasingly happening. We had a lot of people in our territory who had lost their homes to something like that. They’d come here looking for a safe haven.

“Yes. It doesn’t sound like Momar, though. Too small-scale. I think instead that mages are taking the cue from Momar and seizing desirable land. Or maybe they’re just flexing their power. I haven’t had a chance to look over the report in detail yet.”

“If it doesn’t sound like Momar or relate to Kingsley’s situation, then why did he send it?”

Austin looked at me silently for a moment. “It’s his subtle way of saying we have to work together and push back against the mages.”

“He already tried to unite everyone, though. It didn’t work.”

“He was initially met with resistance, correct. Alphas are used to making the rules. If someone wants leadership over them, they expect to be challenged. Kingsley wasn’t trying to structure the league in that way, though. He wanted to organize it more like a company, with a board of directors and someone like a CEO.”

“Right, right,” I said, remembering talking about this here and there. With mages, gargoyles, and shifters, there were a lot of balls in the air. “They all wanted the big role.”

“Yep. And while most of them didn’t dare challenge Kingsley, knowing he’d dominate, a few are on his power scale. They were ready to challenge for placement. He was trying to decide how to best navigate it when the mage attacks on shifters started ramping up. At that point, the shifters realized Kingsley’s logic made an awful lot of sense. It was too late, though. Packs started falling—especially the ones willing to work with Kingsley.”

“You’re already planning to step up into that CEO role,” I told him. “I thought Kingsley knew that.”

“He does.”

“So is he trying to get you to hurry up about it, then?”

Austin took a bite, quiet for a moment. “I think so. That’s what I wanted to get your opinion on. I don’t see how I’ll have the time before we need to help Kingsley—assuming things keep progressing like they have been. We need to get your gargoyle team up and running. That’s a priority, especially because we can do it while I make this territory more cohesive. Another priority. A good portion of our new shifters are coming from these fallen packs, and they’re shellshocked. Like Brochan.”

Brochan, whom a lot of people called Broken Sue because of a naming issue at Elliot Graves’s meetup, was new to the pack. He was a powerful alpha in his own right, nearly at or equal to Kingsley’s level. His ferocity, though, was in a league of its own. You couldn’t blame him for that. Mages had come through and wiped out his pack, including his pregnant mate and children. Loss like that left a scar.

He was finding purpose again in Austin’s pack, with Austin’s confident and patient guidance. He’d challenged for beta—and won—soon after arriving home from Graves’s meetup. Mostly, he was thriving. The one exception was the night he’d attempted to drink as much as Niamh at the bar. They’d verbally sparred, and he ended up staggering out in a black mood, leaving her not even a little perturbed. He should’ve known better than to tangle with a Master Grump.

“And you said that Kingsley is seeing the signs of Momar’s people testing the sentries?” I asked.

“Yes. They’re gearing up. We need to be there before they attack.” He speared a piece of fruit. “I want his defenses to appear weak when Momar’s people test them. Then, when they attack, I want to hit back with an offense that will back Momar and his Mages Guild way up. And then I want to unify the shifters so absolutely that the Mages Guild will need to reassess who is really at the top of the magical food chain.”

“And if the other pack leaders challenge you for the title of CEO?”

He smirked, all confidence. “Then they’ll learn what it’s like to be dominated by the meanest alpha in the world.”

My skin pebbled, and my small hairs rose all over my body. The darkness within me rolled and twisted. I met Austin’s burning cobalt eyes and felt the world tilt. Felt myself falling into his gaze, my blood rushing in my ears.

I recognized the ruthlessness in his eyes. I felt in tune with the ferocity behind his words.

I meant to tell him that we’d obviously need to play things by ear. I had to deal with the gargoyles, and he’d have to strengthen his pack, as he’d said. If we had time to make some visits to other packs, great, but we definitely needed to knock out our priorities first.

I meant to tell him that, but instead, all I could focus on was the delicious heat unfurling within me and his strength and power. I was up and ripping off his clothes before I could stop myself. My gargoyle was fueling this frenzy, and I was inclined to let her.

 

Chapter 3

 

Later that morning, I stood on the outskirts of a large field. Shifters crowded along the edges, two and three people deep. It almost looked like all the magical people in town had come to watch the challenge.

“Now, miss, let’s go over things again, shall we?” Mr. Tom stood at my side with his hands wrapped up like he was a boxer. He wore a dull green sweatsuit with blue stripes down the sides that looked like it was left over from the seventies, and a white sweatband around his head. To complete the look, he had slung a white towel over his shoulder. I was thankful he hadn’t brought a boombox and put “Eye of the Tiger” on repeat.

“Sure she knows all she needs’ta,” Niamh said from a few paces behind us, standing with the rest of the Ivy House crew, her arms crossed over her chest. “Look at all the space they’re givin’ ya, Jessie. Most’v’um know what they’re about, so they do. They’ve seen ye lose control a time or two.”

Across the field stood the female shifter who’d challenged me. The woman, half my age, waited with her arms at her sides and not a stitch of clothing on her. She was ready to shift and attack. It would have been less intimidating if I knew what animal would be coming at me, but no one would tell me. I had no idea why.

I took a deep breath.

“Honestly, lads,” Niamh went on, “what sorta gobshite challenges the alpha’s mate? What is she hoping to achieve?”

“If you would listen rather than bluster and blow,” Mr. Tom replied, “you’d know she is challenging the miss for placement in the pack. If she beats the miss, then she will rise to the upper echelons in the pack hierarchy.”

“Fer feck’s sake, I know all that.” She scoffed at him. “But that eejit shifter can rise just as high by challenging any of the other highly placed shifters, female or male. She’s choosing the alpha’s mate for a reason, like. Is she tryin’ta get in his pants—”

“Don’t.” I put up a finger as my darkness boiled just below the surface. “Do not follow that train of thought. I’m barely keeping things together, and I don’t need to add a shot of possessive rage to the boiling inferno that is my gargoyle. I’m trying to stay a little chill so that I don’t fly off the handle and accidentally kill this person. Control is my friend right now.”

“You shouldn’t be trying to keep control of your animal, Miss Jessie,” Nathanial said from my other side. He was dressed appropriately for the occasion in house sweats. Hell, nude would have been more appropriate than what Mr. Tom had decided to wear. Nathanial was a gargoyle alpha who acted as my general. Soon, I hoped I’d have more people for him to command. “You should shift and let your gargoyle lead the charge—or at least use her strength and power. Our gargoyles are part of us. We lose strength if we try to separate their primal drive from our consciousness.”

“She’s still thinkin’ like a Jane, that’s all.” Niamh unfurled her hands and reached into her pocket. “Here, Cyra. See if ye can get this one.” She pulled out one of Edgar’s lopsided doilies, bent her knees, and hurled it into the sky like a Frisbee.

“Give her space!” Hollace shouted, jogging a few steps away from Cyra.

Everyone quickly followed Hollace’s lead as a big smile spread across Cyra’s face. She stepped forward before clapping her wrists together.

“Oh, now, Niamh, that was a gift,” Edgar said from behind them as he watched the white doily hit its zenith before starting to arc back toward the dry grass. “It was the other stack that was meant for Cora’s training.”

“Her name is still Cyra, big guy.” Ulric clapped Edgar on the back and then grimaced and slowly removed his hand from the spindly vampire.

“There was a difference in the stacks?” Niamh asked, not taking her eyes off Cyra.

Cyra’s black brows pinched, and her face screwed up with determination. A bright stream of fire burst from between her palms, less than an inch wide, and seared through the sky after the falling doily.

A loud ooh issued from the crowd around the field, all looking at the doily, the nearly blinding stream of fire, or Cyra herself. The blast seared the very edge of the doily. The rest of it caught fire, and a ball of flame tumbled down toward the brown grass below.

“That’s a miss,” Niamh said. “Catching fire after the fact doesn’t count.”

“That’s going to set this whole place on fire, you guys,” I admonished them.

“Jessie, if I may,” Edgar said as flames immediately caught and started spreading. “This might be a great time for you to practice your elemental magic. You should be able to suck in the heat from the fire, and in so doing, smother the flame.”

“Yes, Edgar…” I was already building up my magic to do exactly that when Sebastian and his pal, assistant, and co-criminal mastermind, Nessa, jogged up from where they’d been waiting within my crew. “It’s just that elemental magic is at the very top of my power scale and takes a lot of finesse. I can’t seem to manage it.”

“But that was in practice,” Edgar replied patiently. “Now we are all at risk of being burned alive. Sometimes all we need is pressure, right?”

Nessa—Natasha only during formal occasions—stared at Edgar in utter bewilderment for a very long moment. Thankfully, Sebastian was accustomed to Edgar’s oddness and could mostly ignore it.

“Focus, Jessie,” Sebastian said, crowding in close. “Focus on the intent of the spell. Don’t worry about it working or not working. Then, when you feel it—really feel it—work on your technique as you cast.”

I did as he said, mimicking what we did in practice sessions, and from the way the power thrummed through my body, I knew it would work. A burst of it hurtled toward the growing flames. Thankfully, the grass was well tended and cropped close to the ground, otherwise we’d all need to be running. Instead of dousing the heat, though, my spell fanned the flames higher.

“Crap, that’s wind,” I said, rooting through the easy spells at my disposal for a Plan B.

“Oh, fantastic! Wind!” Edgar clapped. “That is at least an element, Miss Jessie. Well done! I knew you could do it.”

“She’s made it worse, ya gobshite,” Niamh replied.

“I’ve got it. Nessa?” Sebastian didn’t even bother looking at her to confirm she was on board. They worked their magic side by side, sectioning off a portion of the field in a pink-tinged magical box. The sides stopped the flames from spreading, and the top clamped down to cut off oxygen. Without fuel, the fire dwindled to nothing but smoke rising from the blackened ground.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

“That was my fault, Miss Jessie.” Cyra raised her hand. “I forgot about the likely repercussions of my actions. I’m used to Ivy House handling things.” Hand still up, she turned to the spectators. “Sorry, everyone. So sorry. My fault.”

“Do you normally think about repercussions when there’s a game afoot?” Hollace murmured, stepping in beside her again.

“No,” she said out of the corner of her mouth, “but it’s polite to take the blame, I think.”

“Or maybe not start fires in the first place,” Ulric said, laughing.

Sebastian slipped his hands into his jeans pockets as Nessa nodded and jogged away. I had no idea where she was headed, but she always seemed to be on the go.

“Like most sane people—” Sebastian said before his words cut off.

The crowd parted to my distant left, and Austin stepped through the mass in a tight white T-shirt and well-worn jeans. Broken Sue followed on the side closest to me. Kace, Austin’s longtime friend and the former beta, strode on the other side.

Sebastian shivered, and his magically altered face wobbled a little.

He’d decided that he would make O’Briens his residence for the foreseeable future so he could train me, but he didn’t want anyone knowing he was the infamous Elliot Graves. He preferred to keep the world’s mages guessing about his whereabouts—being elusive boosted his reputation, not to mention it made him more difficult to hunt and kill.

To keep his anonymity within the town, he’d assumed the disguise he’d worn before. The shifters would have recognized his scent, anyway. Our story was that he’d never actually died, and Niamh yelled at anyone who asked questions.

“As I was saying,” he continued, “like most sane people, I regret to mention this, but I agree with Edgar. Crap!” He flinched dramatically, looking over his shoulder. Edgar stood almost directly behind him, smiling with his large canines.

“Hello,” Edgar said. “I’m so glad you agree.”

Sebastian stepped away, dragging me with him. “I hate when he sneaks up on me,” he murmured. “He must know that because he does it all the time. I think he’s trying to psych me out.”

I couldn’t help my smile. “Actually, I think he’s just happy you notice him.”

Sebastian glanced back at Edgar again. “I’d like to learn the trick to ignoring him.” He shook himself out of it. “Anyway, Jessie, you may not have worked the fire element, but you did work air. The differences in the spells are very small. One detail out of place, and you get a different result. Elemental magic, as I’ve told you before, is the work of a master. You’re the only mage on the planet who has the power to do it solo. The rest of us have to work together, and we hate that.” I could hear the smile in his tone, but it didn’t show on his face. His magical disguise masked almost all of his expressions. “So even though your spell didn’t provide the desired result, you should take it as a win. That’s the first bit of elemental magic you’ve successfully done. It’s a huge achievement.”

“You have to be uplifting. You’re my teacher.”

“I certainly do not, no. I’ve heard and read that most magical teachers are very hard on their apprentices. I have no idea why.”

“To make them tough,” Nessa said, lifting up her hand as she passed us. “The side effect is a fragile ego.” She curled her hand into a fist. “We like fragile egos. They’re easy to break. Mind-fuckery, the best kind of offense.”

“She’s really good at her job,” Sebastian murmured, watching her go. “We have some things we need to discuss when you get back to Ivy House, hopefully sooner rather than later. Now, however…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead watching as Broken Sue approached us, and then swallowed dramatically before melting away behind me. Apparently, Edgar’s creepiness was preferable to Broken Sue’s menacing stare.

“Well hel-lo, mister.” Nessa stopped to gawk and then wink at Broken Sue.

He ignored her, his focus entirely on me. “Ironheart,” he said, using the name this territory had given me. His dark-eyed gaze beat into mine, something within his eyes slightly off-kilter. His haunting pain lurked just below the surface.

Recognizing it, and thinking of those who’d wronged him, I felt the darkness within me boil again. This time, though, the emotional disco ball was accompanied by a strange wooziness that made my thoughts hazy. The air between us seemed to pressurize, and little sparks of energy danced in the open space. And then a solid force slammed between his chest and mine, pulling taut and locking home.

I sucked in a startled breath.

“What just happened?” I asked Ivy House desperately.

“What you were meant for. If you’d worked through it at home instead of hiding from all this at the bear’s house, it wouldn’t have come as such a shock.”

I waited patiently, hoping for more. When she was in a bad mood, she really made me pay for it.

His emotions curled around him—I could feel them!—shock and delight and sudden determination. It was like he’d taken the first deep breath after almost suffocating.

“He has sworn to protect you and your mate,” Ivy House finally said. “He has spilled blood for you. He is a brother in arms. A battle partner. Your gargoyle has found him acceptable and therefore secured your bond. He is one with you now. He’s part of your cairn.”

“Is that why I can feel his emotions? Because of this bond that…my gargoyle…initiated? Also, I don’t like that the gargoyle, on my behalf, is randomly forcing bonds between unsuspecting people.”

She made a sound that said her patience was wearing thin. “As I said, if you’d dealt with all of this instead of hiding, you’d have more control over your primal abilities. And if your mate would accept the protector’s magic as he ought to, you two could work through it together. Your whole situation is tits-up. I’ve never known an heir to be so reluctant to assume her full abilities.”

“If we could just skip ahead?”

Her pregnant pause felt like some kind of threat. “No bond can be placed unless both parties are willing. He felt your influence and welcomed the deeper connection, securing him at your side and into your cairn.”

“Do male gargoyles have the ability to create bonds like this?”

“Male cairn leaders have but a fraction of the strength you do. They can create bonds, but not so fluidly. Reading emotions is part of your primal magic. You need to assess those around you in order to properly lead and protect them, and to do that, you need to intuit more than what they are saying.”

“Why is this just happening now? Broken Sue is the only one I can read outside of those I have an actual bond with.”

“Because you are slow? Because you are fighting the gargoyle’s influence at every turn? Because you are more stubborn than any male gargoyle I have ever known or ever hope to know? And that is saying something. Ask around.”

“Right. Okay. Good talk.”

I passed the back of my hand over my forehead like a woman in an old movie.

“I gotcha.” Ulric grabbed my hand and linked our arms together. “What’s going on?”

“Here we go,” said Mr. Tom, moving behind me. “Let’s loosen you up.” The sides of his hands started chopping my back in a very bad rendition of a massage.

“I feel like I’m in a circus,” I grumbled.

“Ironheart,” Broken Sue said again. He had a new light in his eyes. He felt our connection, I could tell, born in blood at Graves’s meetup. “You’re being challenged as the alpha of this territory, co-ruler with Austin Steele. It’s a sanctioned challenge for pack placement. That means the pack’s rules of engagement will be followed, or the offending party will be ostracized or punished. Do you understand?”

I widened my eyes a little, snapped back into the moment. “Understanding the rules has nothing to do with obeying those rules. Maybe you can talk some sense into Austin? I lose control very easily. This is a very bad idea.”

“We’re on hand to keep you from killing her,” Sebastian called out.

“No.” Broken Sue shook his head and lowered his voice. “Only the alpha can interfere, and he won’t unless one of the parties is under duress and taps out.”

“Austin won’t get the chance to interfere.”

Broken Sue nodded slowly. “I don’t make a habit of speaking for the alpha, but he knows that.”

He stepped a little closer. He towered over me, a foot or so taller and with shoulders so wide it almost made him look shorter. Sebastian would’ve been evacuating his bowels at this proximity.

“Listen, Jessie, the pack isn’t going into this situation blind. We made sure your challenger, Zoe, knows what she’s getting into. We’ve made her listen to stories of your magic, both when it works the way you want it to and when it doesn’t. She knows you took down a phoenix and a thunderbird. She’s challenging you anyway because she doesn’t think a non-shifter should be ruling this pack. She doesn’t think you’re a fit mate for an alpha—especially this alpha, whom some are now referring to as the king of the shifters. She wants the pack to ridicule you. If she succeeds, it will unsettle the whole pack structure. Do you hear what I’m telling you?”

I flared my hand out helplessly. “You want me to make an example of her, yes, I get that. Do you hear what I am telling you? That example might be death. Then…what? Austin has to punish me or ostracize me? In what world is that going to happen? He won’t harm me, and I’m the heir of Ivy House. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Of course you’re not, miss.” Mr. Tom made fists with his hands and kept firmly beating at the muscles in my back. I could’ve told him to stop, but it was just as easy to ignore him. He was my personal white noise. “No one will run you anywhere. I’d like to see them try.”

Broken Sue kept his gaze steady on me, apparently unfazed by Mr. Tom’s whole situation. He nodded, not much more than a jerk of his head. “You’ll do what needs to be done. In an official capacity, to prevent favoritism, that’s all I can say.”

“All right, monkey, off ye git now,” Niamh said from right behind me. “We’ll handle it. Bugger off. Ye did yer part.”

Broken Sue’s eyes flicked over my shoulder. “Remember in which territory you reside, puca,” he growled. I might have taken a step back if his magic hadn’t cocooned me in a protective embrace that shielded me from the aggression emanating from him. He was magically communicating that I was safe within his proximity.

“I know which territory, ye great lummox,” Niamh replied. “Hers.”

The tension coiled. Power pulsed from Broken Sue, from Niamh, from the others around me sensing a possible confrontation.

I knew this wasn’t a big deal—their squabble would amount to absolutely nothing. At the bar, Niamh antagonized Broken Sue mercilessly, always stopping her taunting just shy of an altercation. She knew exactly which buttons to push, how hard, and for how long. She used it to distract him, to break him out of his cycle of self-loathing and get him to direct his pain-turned-anger at her instead. I knew all of this.

But he was silently threatening a member of my crew. A crew it was my duty to protect. In a bar, I could ignore it. On a battlefield, when my gargoyle was already feeling the call of blood and the darkness within me was at a rolling boil…

“Please stop,” I whispered, pushing Ulric away. If my magic kicked off, I didn’t want to accidentally fling him. “Stop going at each other. Now isn’t the time.”

“It’s never the time,” Broken Sue said in a rough voice, like rocks dragging over concrete.

“That’s only because you’re on borrowed time,” Niamh returned.

“Ha! What amazing wordplay. Two masters,” Edgar said from somewhere behind me.

“Enough!” The darkness surged up and stole over me. Magic ballooned out, sending a pulse into the sky.

I knew that pulse meant, Come to me, calling all the gargoyles around us. I didn’t have any more control over that than I did my new talent of creating blood bonds.

Mr. Tom’s pounding on my back ceased. My beast itched to get out.

Another pulse blasted out into the sky, across the field, across the town.

Prepare for war.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it,” I said, balling my fists, trying to clamp the magic back down. “Think happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.”

“Fall into it, Jessie.” Niamh was right at my side. “Fall into it. Let yer primal side out for a walk. Shift. Take to the sky. Or waddle around—whatever ye gargoyles do. Do it.”

“Listen to her,” Ivy House said. “She created this opportunity for you. Shift and let your beast handle this challenge. Do not let your mate down.”

“You baited him on purpose,” I gritted out.

“Well, o’course I did,” Niamh replied, keeping pace with me as I stepped away. “I’ve got him down to a short fuse, and he’s got a lotta power. He’s helping me push ye. Let the beast out.”

“You can’t let that challenging shifter ridicule you,” Ulric said, popping up at my other side again. The others pushed away, probably worried I’d explode. “Show this pack your power. Show them they’re in good hands with you as their alpha.”

My power pumped higher, the pulses coming faster. Stronger. Calling my brothers and sisters in arms.

Broken Sue lost all his tension and sucked in a startled breath.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Niamh told him, breathing faster. “The female gargoyle is a born commander. A magical commander. Not even Austin Steele can unite an army the way she can. Jessie-the-Jane just has to get out of the way.”

“What if I lose control?” I said. “What if I kill her? What if I accidentally overreach and hurt innocent bystanders?”

“I got that,” Sebastian said. “I can handle protecting the onlookers so you can focus on the challenge. Nessa, I could use some help.”

“Coming! How do you do, sir?” Nessa said as she jogged by, laughter in her tone. She was talking to Broken Sue again.

“There, now. Ye won’t hurt any bystanders, sure ye won’t,” Niamh told me.

I could feel my power thrumming, pulsing into the sky where several gargoyles now soared, waiting for my next command.

Ulric swore under his breath. “I can’t resist this,” he said, strained. “She’s calling us, Jessie. Your gargoyle is calling us, and it feels incredible. It feels like what we were made for.”

Wings snapped out ten feet away, like a sail swiftly catching a hard wind—Nathanial, his clothes shed, and now in his other form. Jasper was next, his wings not as large but the snap of their opening just as eager.

“Yeah, I gotta join.” Ulric jogged away with a huge grin, tossing aside his clothes.

“Let yer primal side rule,” Niamh pushed. “Ye aren’t just a mage, you are also a gargoyle. Remember? If ye want to meet the cairn leaders who are sure to come, ye need to act like one of their kind. One of yer kind—Jaysus, Earl, shift quick, would ye? If your bollocks were any lower, they’d trail along the ground behind you.”

Sweat ran down my face. My shirt was plastered to my back.

I shook my head. I hated this. I’d made peace with the necessity of killing enemies in order to protect myself and my people, but Zoe was part of the pack. She was an ally. I didn’t want to kill her, but if I completely gave in to my gargoyle, I wasn’t sure I could stop myself.

“Nature is savage, and so is magic,” Ivy House said. “The shifter was warned.”

Before I could shake my head again, I felt another wave of Broken Sue’s power. This time, though, it wasn’t directed at Niamh, and it wasn’t hostile. It was directed at me—a message of support from my brother in arms—and it pushed me over the edge.

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