Instead, Valec looks between us, once, twice, then solely at me. “Wait—” He steps closer to me with narrow, searching eyes. So close that I almost see the iridescent red over the deep brown. After a moment, Valec draws back, devilish amusement dancing over his face. “Oh, I thought I might have to harm Briana to really stick it to you, Kane, but you’ve done that just fine all on your own….”

“What are you talking about?” I demand.

Valec raises his right hand to my face and I flinch away—but can’t escape. He already has a hand wrapped around my elbow like a vise. I hadn’t even felt him move.

“Don’t touch her!” Sel growls.

“First,” Valec murmurs, almost gently, as he presses three fingers to my temple, “look at me.”

If Merlins’ eyes look both old and young, Valec’s eyes look ancient. His eyes churn the space between us, creating a link like I’ve never felt before. Like mesmer, but… more like firm hands around my mind, squeezing—then letting go. By the time I think to resist, it’s over.

“Now,” Valec whispers, releasing me, “look at him.”

Confused, I look back at Sel. “Why?” He has since dropped both hands onto his knees and his head is bowed, like he’s trying to catch his breath—or control it.

Valec’s voice is low at my ear. “Because he doesn’t want you to.”

Dread makes a heavy, dizzying cocktail in my belly. Heart thumping against my ribs, I step forward. Raise a hand to his shoulder. “Sel?”

“Don’t—” He jerks away.

“Sel, are you—”

“Bree…” His voice is a low warning growl. Meant to scare and challenge. It stopped working on me ages ago.

Valec sighs. “If you don’t turn around on your terms, Kane, you’ll do so on mine.”

Sel’s spine goes rigid at Valec’s threat. There’s a long moment when I think he might let Valec force him, or that he might bolt. But he does neither.

Instead, Sel stands up slowly, twisting as he goes.

As his profile becomes visible, my mouth falls open in a choked gasp.

“Oh my God.”

34

THE SELWYN I’D seen just five minutes ago isn’t here anymore. This Selwyn is someone I don’t recognize, even in profile.

Where Sel’s skin is usually even and pale, this Sel’s skin is flushed with bright red slashes across each cheekbone. His lips are a deeper color than I’ve ever seen. I catalog the damp black strands plastered on his temple and forehead. The rapid flutter pulse against the skin of his throat, strikingly wrong for a Merlin, whose hearts beat more slowly than people who are fully human. At his sides, dark veins line his fingers and hands, stretch past his wrists.

“Sel…,” I whisper.

Eyes closed, mouth pursed, he turns.

“Look at me….” Breath catches in my throat. “Please.”