The stubborn arse never let up. Caden had given up his prosperous job and a perfectly comfortable life in Dallas to care for him after Anka’s abduction. No matter how many times he told Caden it was all right to take Sydney and return to that life, his younger brother insisted that his future was here, entwined with the Doomsday Brethren.

With a heavy sigh, he whispered to Caden, “It went badly. She lacks even the most basic skills.”

“You had none when Marrok started training you.”

Lucan couldn’t deny that. “It’s not the same. I’m in the fight to protect, not to have revenge.”

Caden shrugged. “Ice wants revenge for his sister’s murder. How is that different?”

He tried to wrap his head around a hundred possible answers. That she was female, and therefore to be treasured and coddled, sat on the tip of his tongue. If Sydney heard that, she’d beat him silly. And it wasn’t exactly the truth. Anka was smart, capable of learning, had the drive to excel, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her in harm’s way. Or being hurt.

After this morning, he knew she wanted the pain. That bothered him most of all.

“Something isn’t right with her, brother. She’s unhinged or unbalanced. She’s…” Changed.

The decanter of blessed water made its way back to the priestess, who smiled beneath her long crimson hood. “Very many blessings here, for one cut down in his prime. He will be well cared for in the nextlife. To this wizard, we give the element of blessed water.”

The gnarled old woman poured the contents of the vial over Tynan’s beaten body. His deathly pallor sparkled for a moment in the weak sunlight. Lucan watched Sabelle huddle deeper into Ice’s arms as Kari looked away, whispering to Tabitha, whose hair glinted fire-red in the sun. Something stabbed the backs of Lucan’s eyes. Tears. Fucking useless. He’d shed too many of them in the last three months. He knew too well that crying changed nothing. He could still feel every bit as hollow inside after the storm, and he always felt weaker for it.

But as the priestess held her hands over Tynan’s chest, Asher raised up a bejeweled box, complete with the O’Shea crest, and lifted the decorative lid. The wizard looked as if his jaw was going to break, he clenched it so hard. The priestess closed her eyes, and seemed to find some place within herself, focusing her magic. Tynan’s heart pushed up from his chest, lifted from his ribcage by the powerful woman’s spell, then filled the box in Asher’s hands. But that was all for show. Tynan had buried his heart with Auropha four months ago.

Asher slammed the lid on the box and set it at the head of the slab. The gathering turned with the priestess to a lonely patch of soil with a freshly-dug hole in the center. She said a few more blessings over the box, then slid it into the consecrated soil on their lands, the center of their family energy. “For this wizard, we provide the blessed element of earth.”

Bram, Asher, Ronan, and Ice all stepped forward on cue to light a ceremonial torch. This part would take the longest and horrify the human mates, Kari and Sydney. But this part of the service was sacred and required.

Lucan stared through aching eyes as the torch bearers lit Tynan on fire as the priestess intoned, “Of this wizard, we create the blessed element of fire.”

The sacred water had been spelled to act as accelerant, and Tynan quickly started to char, burn, melt. Kari gasped and turned away, grief all over her face. Sydney grabbed the woman’s hand, closing her eyes.

He forced himself to watch, wondering if Tynan wasn’t better off. He’d never again have to think about this magical war. He’d never again have to imagine his love at the hands of Mathias. And he’d absolutely never again have to endure living with the crushing guilt of not saving her and wondering what the fuck he was going to do with the remaining centuries of his life now that the one woman who completed him was lost to him forever.

Lucan sighed. Granted, Anka wasn’t dead, but for him, she might as well be. The woman who had inhabited her body was sure as hell gone.

The crackling of the flames roared over the pall of silence. Caden chose that moment to break it. “What do you mean Anka is unhinged?”

He didn’t want to answer. He’d fucking rather forget what he’d seen, what she’d told him, and live in a state of wretched ignorance. But he couldn’t undo this morning. Caden had been one of the few bright spots in Lucan’s last three months. Having Caden and Sydney live with him had kept the worst of the loneliness at bay. His brother’s mate was particularly insightful about his moods, and always seemed to know when he needed cheering up. But a video game or a good joke wasn’t going to solve this. Nor was a cupcake or a spot of tea. But maybe logic would. Caden could often offer objective advice. Maybe Anka’s behavior would make sense to him.

“She’s bruised—wrists, ankles, shoulders, neck.” He closed his eyes, remembering his rage as he’d torn off Anka’s clothes and revealed contusions in nearly every color of the rainbow. “Hips, thighs, arse.”

“Like he beat her? That sadistic fucker!” Caden snarled in his ear. “Why doesn’t she leave and come home—”

“I asked her the same thing. She told me that she asked Shock to bind her down and use her this way. She says she needs it.” Lucan turned pained eyes to his brother. “Anka is the gentlest soul, and she begs him to hurt her. Why?”

Caden paused, pressed his lips together grimly. “He restrains her, you say?”

“Yes.” Admitting that was a stab to the chest. “By her own choice.”

“Does he spank, flog, or whip her?”

Lucan glared hard at his brother. “Fuck, Caden! It’s not like I handed her a goddamn quiz. Does it bloody matter?”

“Not really.” Caden shifted his weight, looking reluctant to open his mouth, as if it would be as dangerous as opening Pandora’s box. “Did Anka try very hard during your mating to please you?”

A thousand soft, sweet memories tugged at him, bringing as much pain now as they once had pleasure. “Yes. Her thoughtfulness, her desire to make others happy, was one of her sweetest qualities.”

“Listen carefully,” Caden instructed, voice low. “That woman is still inside her. She’s simply started expressing her submissive nature sexually, and Shock is acting as her Dom.”

“What?” The words were so foreign, Lucan couldn’t process them. “No! She always liked to be touched tenderly, stroked, petted, coddled. Bound and beaten? Never.”

Raiden leaned in with a bit of a wince. “I think Caden is right. For what it’s worth, so does Ronan.”

Lucan’s gaze snapped up to the rest of the crowd. The twins were watching with matching expressions of compassion that labeled him a poor sap. Bram smiled tightly. Ice sent him a firm nod. He didn’t dare look at any of the women. Mortification and fury plowed through him, and Caden dragged him away from most of the crowd, toward the back of the gathering.

“I don’t understand.” He gaped at his brother, feeling as if some foundation of his world had fallen out from under him.

“You said yourself that she’d changed. I’d say this is one of the changes, but it sounds like the tendency has always been there. Maybe this is how she lets out her pain now. Maybe what happened with Mathias made her recognize her needs. I don’t know.”

“Her needs? To have the shit beaten out of her?”

“Keep your voice down,” Caden growled.

His brother was right. He had to get a hold of his rage. Now wasn’t the time, and this wasn’t the place. They were here to bury one of their own, and he was so mired in his own shit that he’d forgotten the terrible meaning of this ceremony.

“You’re right. We’ll talk when this is over.” Lucan forced himself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Bram will be busy with Council business. Because you know it’s impolite to talk to Asher about taking Tynan’s seat and trying to save magickind before the service is complete,” Caden drawled.

Lucan nodded, glad he wasn’t necessary to that process. “I suppose that’s why Sebastian Blackbourne is here, to convince Asher to go to the dark side and support Mathias.”

“I fear that sums it up.”

Lucan scanned the crowd. “Uncle Sterling isn’t here.”

“Our uncle, despite his tenure on the Council, isn’t going to argue our cause better than Bram. Relax.”

“Right.”

They stepped back in with the rest of the crowd as the priestess extinguished the fire with her magic and collected the ash of Tynan’s body. Nothing more remained of the strong, tormented warrior now.

At the head of the stone slab, Asher’s face tightened. The man’s eyes were glossy with tears he refused to shed.

The priestess sent him a soft expression of sympathy as she handed him the urn with Tynan’s ashes. “With this wizard, we free him to the blessed element of air.”

“Go well, my brother,” Asher whispered as he waved his hand and released the ashes to the wind whistling across the dusky sky.

Moments later, the sun set. Tynan’s ashes scattered, and a peaceful hush settled over the crowd. He was carried away—his troubles, his grief, his impotent rage, his terrible loss. Gone.

Lucan closed his eyes and envied the fallen warrior.

“This is why Bram hasn’t let you back into battle,” Caden murmured in his ear.

Because Lucan had contemplated suicide by Anarki? “I know.”

There were painful days and nights he’d considered begging Bram to let him fight. Or going in search of Mathias all alone in his lair and throwing caution to the devil. But in his heart, Anka was still his responsibility, despite their broken bond. She might need him to protect her someday. He’d failed her miserably once. He would not falter again.

“I wouldn’t let him,” Caden admitted.

Lucan smiled wryly. “I know.”

His brother’s love and support had been one of the few joys that had kept Lucan putting one foot in front of the other so that he could continue to exist each day.

Shortly thereafter, the crowd began to break up. Everyone lined up to pay their respects to Asher, offer their help and condolences. They did, one by one, then teleported away. Lucan stepped forward and looked Asher O’Shea in the eye. The poor bastard looked like he’d been gutted. It wasn’t only Tynan who’d suffered. The living left behind to cope and grapple and try to move forward perhaps suffered more, with no end in sight. He cursed the Anarki and Mathias. He cursed Shock’s younger brother, Zain, for bringing the terrible wizard back so he could be evil’s right hand or whatever creepy aspiration he had. And as long as he was cursing one Denzell brother, he might as well curse both. Shock certainly deserved every bit of his rage and contempt.

“I’m beyond sorry, O’Shea.”

Asher’s face closed up even tighter. “Thank you. Besides Bram, you two are the last of the Doomsday Brethren here. I want you all off my property. Don’t ever come back.”

Lucan wasn’t offended by Asher’s anger. Fury had become his old friend since losing Anka, so he well understood how the grieving man felt. He debated the wisdom of his next words, but figured that he and his fellow warriors had already been dismissed. He couldn’t do more damage.

“In your shoes, I’d hate us, too. We allowed a grieving wizard to fight. He was reckless and let himself be taken in the hopes of killing Mathias. You have every reason to despise us. I can only tell you that I lost my mate in this war. I understand bitterness and grief. Your brother was a good warrior. A good man. He will be avenged. The Doomsday Brethren will make certain of it.”

Asher stared, his face stony, looking as if he held in a string of heated curses for the sake of decorum, but his hold was wearing thin.

“Ultimately,” Lucan continued, “Mathias killed your brother to have one less wizard to oppose him and upset the balance of the Council. Keep that in mind when you weigh your Council decisions.”

“As much as I hate all of you, I hate Mathias more. Now get the hell out of here.” Asher sent Lucan a sharp nod of dismissal.

Caden only patted Asher on the shoulder. “I’m very sorry.”

Then he grabbed Sydney’s hand and teleported out. Lucan followed suit, watching Bram and Sebastian Blackbourne hover around Asher as he said the last of his good-byes. With a shake of his head, Lucan popped home, not envying either of the wizards left behind. The responsibility of steering magickind in times of civil war was an awesome one.

Back at his house, Sydney kissed his cheek, followed by a soft peck on Caden’s lips, then excused herself upstairs. His brother watched her sassy sway all the way up the stairs, and Lucan envied him the happiness and solace Caden could take from Sydney in good times and bad. Fuck, he sounded like a morose wanker, crying in his whiskey or whatever. Right now, he’d love a drink. But Caden would disapprove, and he refused to stoop to Shock’s level by being a full-time drunk.