“I thought they were friendly?” I ask, turning my gaze toward Cyprien, who told me the information originally. “Aren’t they?”

“I was just teasing you,” he murmurs, shaking his head resolutely. “Kleptaks… those things are some of the deadliest creatures in The Far Place. A single one can consume an entire group of demons in the blink of an eye.” He shivers. “Fucking soul suckers.”

I stare at the gaping hole in the center of its face, my stomach clenching as I realize what its purpose serves. “Isn’t that kind of what you guys do?”

His face pinches in indignation. “It’s different.”

“Doesn’t really seem like it,” I murmur, my gaze tracking down the outline of the kleptak, wondering how many souls it’s consumed. “So… how am I supposed to control it?” I ask, directing my question toward Malice.

“You’re not going near it,” Fenryr snaps, his gaze lighting with possessiveness. “I need to keep you safe.”

“She’ll be fine as long as she stays farther than three feet,” Malice says, his eyes trailing to the ceiling. “Luckily for you, we’re not going to do anything with Mor today. First, I need to show Dagny how to build her mental walls.”

My expression sours at the sight of the expectant grin spreading across Malice’s face, my brain failing to come up with a good excuse.

“Okay,” I sigh. “Show me how.”

21. Malice

21

Malice

“You’re doing amazing,” I whisper, my tone a revered hush. “Just a little more… There, just like that… Good fucking girl.”

The silver ring around Dagny’s iris fades as the last piece of her mental wall settles into place, her eyes returning to a lovely, warm chocolate brown as the untamed energy of The Far Place is cut off. She slumps forward in my arms, her body utterly spent, and a wave of relief travels down the bond in the absence of that thrumming, violent energy.

“How do you feel?” I ask, rubbing my palm soothingly over her spine. “Any better?”

“Yeah, actually… A lot better…” Dagny’s lids lower as her muscles unwind, sinking deeper into my chest and spreading pleasure throughout my being.

Dagny’s other mates sit in a half circle, worry rolling off their shoulders as they stare at the beautiful creature in my arms. They’re ready to spring into action and rip my head from my shoulders if anything goes wrong. As if I would let it.

Slowly, Dagny raises her head, blinking away the haze coating her vision as she stares deep into my eyes.

“What’s next?” she asks, her voice hoarse. “I’m ready for anything.”

“You’re ready to pass out, is what you are,” Fenryr grumbles, his expression pinched in distress. “Why don’t you take a little break? When Cyprien and Lir get back from their hunt with Kaebl, we can⁠—”