"Bye Bart," I called out, waving vigorously as our new friend climbed into his car and pulled out of the parking lot. His hand jutted out the window and returned the farewell with equal energy, and I waited until the red glow of his taillights disappeared over the hill before lowering my hand.

"Bria."

"What a good guy. Didn't you think he was the best?"

"Bria."

"He even got me a new pair of gloves, since my other pair had a hole in them. Didn't even ask me why I was wearing them. Of course, it is chilly out here. I think maybe that's why I love winters, you know. People don't give me funny looks when I'm wearing clothes from head to toe."

"Will you shut your mouth for one second, woman? For fuck's sake," Cian shouted, grabbing for me—no doubt to shake me the way he so often did when he grew frustrated with me.

I dodged him. My body wanted to let him catch me. It wanted to feel his calloused palms against its skin. Three rounds with the Andarien had only fanned the flames of lust higher, but after his admission coming out of the woods, I was more interested in kicking him between the legs than I letting him between mine.

"Are all human women this frustrating?" He fumed as he followed me toward our hotel room.

"I wouldn't know. I'm not human."

"This is not the reaction I expected."

Cian caught the door before it hit him in the face. A couple walking by our room paused and peered into our room. Noting their concern, I gave them a thumbs up and a smile. They continued on their way, but I wasn't certain they were convinced. If the police knocked on the door in the next thirty minutes, I wouldn't be surprised.

"What reaction did you expect?" I demanded, throwing myself into the center of the bed and glaring at the man when he attempted to join me. "Should I have asked Bart to step aside while I showed my appreciation with my mouth? Should I have dropped to my knees—"

"Stop," he commanded. When I tried to continue, he lunged onto the bed and clapped a large hand over my mouth and pinned me in place with knees on either side of my hips. "You've done nothing but ask me to find another way since we discovered you carried the Shard, but when I tell you I found one, you get pissed."

"Get off," I snarl, bucking up my hips, meeting nothing but resistance and several inches of steel that make me ache. It would be so easy to channel this rage into an intense bout of sex, but I had a sneaking suspicion our new level of intimacy was fueling most my rage. Why else would I be upset that he was doing exactly what I wanted in the first place? I was being a dumb girl. Getting angry because he only found value in me after I met his physical needs. Of course, he claimed he came to this decision before the wreck and before what happened after he healed me, but how could I ever be certain he wasn't lying? Then again, how furious would I be if we had sex, and he still wanted to hand me over for sanctioned murder?

"Bria, what is going through your head?"

"I don't know," I admitted, pushing my palms into my temples as he eased himself off me. We leaned against the headboard and stared at the wall. "I don't feel like myself. Everything is twisted."

"Maybe it's the Shard. I've heard stories that Shard carries can experience personality shifts."

"It would make sense if the Shard is someone else's soul."

I remembered what happened at Amaya's when I changed my signature. There had been a distinct sensation I was sharing my head space with someone else. Cian suggested it was the Shard. I dismissed it then, but now that I had time to think about it without being caught up in the experience, I realized he was probably right.

"Who is it, Cian?" I asked so quietly I almost didn't expect him to hear me. Then again, the answer was obvious. I was asking because I needed him to tell me the truth as proof I could trust him.

"Bellamy."

The sister I didn't know existed until two days ago. I settled my hand over my heart. A part of her lived inside of me. "You two were lovers."

The man beside me groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "I thought we were mates."

"But you're not?"

"Mates are fairly common among Andariens. When you begin a relationship with someone, you do so understanding that they will leave you—or you them—if their mate comes along, and there are rarely hard feelings. Bell and I were certain we were mates, but we never sought to make it official because of the uproar it would cause. The child of a god with a creature like me... So, for a long time, we were content to keep our love a secret."

Something churned inside of me. A bit of that irrational anger from before and maybe a hint of jealousy. But was it jealousy over Cian's relationship with another woman? Or was whatever was left of Bellamy in the Shard making me feel this way? I shook my head. It didn't matter. I was the one in control, and if it was the former, I couldn't fault Cian for having lovers in the past. I wasn't a virgin when I slept with him, and no matter how intense things were between us, we hadn't exactly put a label on it.

"What happened? When did you find out you weren't mates?"

A loud thud sounded as he dropped his head back on the headboard. A dark lock of hair fell over his forehead, and he closed his eyes, allowing me to drink in the sharp lines of his profile without fearing he would catch me staring. I swallowed hard when he licked his lips.

"That was only recently." The words fell like stones from his lips. He rubbed his hand over his knee. "Bellamy told me she found a way for us to be together without hiding. She discovered how to open a portal between worlds. It was a power she had that no one else did."

I could see where this was going. Somehow, Bellamy was sacrificed for the rebel cause, but how did she go from being Cian's mate to having her soul rendered into pieces, locking them in our world?

Cian must have sensed my curiosity, and he continued without being prompted. "We made plans to leave, but I convinced her to help my people escape. Everything was fine in the beginning, but Bellamy sensed how this world weakened us. She wanted to go home. There were those in our group who didn't want her to return because they didn't trust her—"

"Like Kohl and Fynn?"

He gave a bitter laugh. "Precisely. They thought she'd brought us here to weaken us, and she was going to return home to bring back an army. They attacked me and chained me up, using me as bait to lure her to them. They'd obviously been planning this for some time because they had some of the most powerful mages we'd brought into this world waiting for her. A demigoddess doesn't die like a mortal does. Her body can be destroyed, but her soul will find another form. So they ripped her soul to shreds and deposited the pieces into the first Shard bearers so she couldn't be reborn. A hundred years later, they realized the cost, and they've been trying to undo their mistake ever since."

"Cian." I put my hand over his and rested my head on his shoulder, smiling when after only a moment's hesitation, he placed his chin on top of my head. "I can't imagine..."

"It was my fault—"

"No!"

"Yes. I was the one who told Fynn and Kohl she wanted to go home. I thought they were my brothers. They provoked my animal nature by telling me they saw her with another. If had kept my mouth shut or been more level-headed... none of that would have happened. She would still be alive."

"That's why you really wanted to bring me in, isn't it? You were trying to bring her back." Guilt slammed into me hard.

"Pulling the Shard from you won't kill you if it's done correctly." His jaw clenched like the admission pained him.

"I don't understand."

"What would kill you is when they forced your soul from your body and put Bellamy's restored soul in yours. That's why I told you we couldn't let you live your life and die naturally, especially if you had no children. The soul host has to be a Shard Keeper."

I dropped his hand and scooted away. Blue eyes burned as they tracked my movement, but Cian didn't reach for me although I could tell he wanted to. It was as if every ounce of strength he possessed was being channeled into holding himself together. What he told me didn't really change things. Dead was dead as far as I was concerned. It didn't matter that they were going to hijack my body afterward, but the discovery of his true motivation was creating conflicting emotions inside of me—emotions I knew were entirely my own.

"And you're willing to give her up to let me live? Your mate?"

"No." He shook his head. "I told you, she's not—Get down."

Glass sprayed across the room, and blinding, choking smoke followed immediately after. Cian dragged me through the bathroom door and shoved open the small window above the toilet. In the other room, people shouted, and the flimsy wood door separating us from the intruders splintered as bullets pierced it, narrowly missing me and the Andarien as we hauled ourselves through the window.

"Who is it?" I asked, panting as we hurried through the alley in an awkward running squat. "The Coalition or your people?"

"Don't you mean our people?" He asked, flashing a fleeting grin as we paused at the corner of the hotel. Sirens wailed and people screamed, running from their rooms to their vehicles as the attacks intensified. "Whoever it is, they don't give a damn about being subtle."

"Technically, we missed the deadline Kohl gave us, and since he attacked me at a gas station last time, I feel like a hotel is not above him."

We were pressed together, and when he growled, I felt it rumble through his entire body. "If he ever puts another finger on you, I'll scatter his limbs to the four corners of the earth."

"Calm down, big boy," I said, even as a thrill coursed through me and sent heat to all the best places.

He threaded his fingers through mine. "I doubt it's Andariens. Guns aren't really their style. Either way, we need an escape route, and since our car is at the bottom of a ravine, we're going to have to steal another."

"How about that one?" I suggested, pointing to a red corvette near the back of the lot.

Stealing a car should have bothered me considering I'd once been a police officer, but this was definitely one of those moments in college psychology where they asked you if a crime was justified, if they committed it for a good reason. Back then, my world was so black and white, I would have said one wrong didn't make another right, but the woman I was today would've punched the old me in the mouth.

"Stay here. I can skirt around the edge of the property. One of us moving will be less conspicuous, and if I draw fire, you run in the opposite direction."

"No, I don't like this plan."

"I wasn't asking your opinion," he replied, hauling me up by the front of my shirt and kissing me so hard I saw stars. Then he was gone.

"Cian," I hissed, searching desperately for him while trying to pretend he hadn't turned me into a warm, gooey mess. Now was not the time to be distracted. Then I saw him creeping toward the driver's side of the corvette, and I sagged in relief. Even from this distance, I caught the cocky wink he tossed me before jimmying the lock on the door. "Smug ass."

Pain ripped through the back of my skull, and the lights went out.