The thought enraged Jaren all over again. An image flashed across his mind of a five-year-old Veralie, with her dusting of freckles and mischievous gray eyes, screaming in agony. She swore she had no memory of it, but that didn’t keep away the nightmare of her calling out for him while she bled on a table.

Jaeros dropped his voice to barely above a whisper, an almost soul-deep exhaustion replacing any anger he’d had. “We didn’t have a choice, Jaren. You would have demanded to go with her, and you were barely more than a child.”

“She was my MATE!” He roared, gripping his dagger and barreling down into his power with blood-red focus. He was going to fucking kill him.

The rippled blade made it all of an inch out of its sheath before a hand wrapped around his own, squeezing harshly and pushing it back down.

“Jaren,” Veralie said, a clear warning in her voice. But it was the erratic thump of her heart that ripped him out of his frenzy. His nostrils flared as he took her in, and he whipped his head around them, noticing the crowd that had begun to form.

“Fuck,” he spit, releasing his dagger to link his fingers through hers. The more his head cleared, the more he realized he could hear murmurs as more Magyki stopped, angling to see what was happening.

They needed to go now before he did something even more stupid, like ripping out Jaeros Barilias’s heart and gifting it to his aitanta in offering. There were many positives to his fathers being well-known, but this was not one of them.

He shot another glare at Jaeros, whose hands were hovering over his own blades as he considered the growing crowd. Jaren hated to admit it, but the asshole had been right about one thing, he needed to get her out of sight. Now.

He inhaled, filling his lungs with fire and iron, and squeezed Veralie’s fingers hard enough to make her suck in a breath. If he could bury down his overwhelming self-hatred for fifteen years, he could control his gods damn fucking temper long enough to not publicly murder his father.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at Veralie, the silver of her eyes keeping him tethered to the present. “Keep your head down, little star. We need to go.”

She nodded, but before she could open her mouth to say anything, another voice beat her to it, making his eye twitch with the effort to restrain himself.

“Will you be staying at your usual place?”

He clenched his jaw, refusing to answer. The male had a fucking death wish. Did he really think he’d tell him where they were going? But his silence must have been answer enough because in his peripheral, his father nodded once.

“I’ll meet you there tomorrow, and we’ll talk. Be careful.”

Jaren’s lip curled, and he started to turn back, but Veralie yanked hard on his arm, catching him off guard and causing him to stumble into her.