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breath and let it out slowly before he spoke, mostly likely to calm his nerves. Zasha didn’t know much about the man, but he got the impression that Lynk didn’t like confrontation. “My brother, Thane, is being held in a well on your lands. He’s been there for several months now, being starved and fed from while he wastes away.”

The temperature of the room should have dropped twenty degrees just from the cold look on October’s face. Zasha wasn’t sure he bought it, but he knew his leader would take the accusation seriously. Sure enough, a moment later, he had both Gideon and Axton on their way back to the coven with strict orders to go straight to the well near the windmills and not breathe a word of their destination to anyone.

To Zasha’s surprise, Lynk turned to him with a determined gaze. “I think there is something that you need to know.”

“Does it have to do with why you are pretending that you cannot feel the connection between us?” He forced the words out through gritted teeth while he stared daggers at the werewolf behind his mate.

“Yes, actually.” Lynk gave him a charming smile, but there was a steely glint in his dark eyes. “I am not pretending anything, however. I do not feel a connection between us because one simply does not exist. Kieran is my mate—my destined mate.”

Zasha growled and took a step forward. He had no intentions of harming Lynk, but he was going to climb Kieran Delaney like a spider monkey and gouge his eyes out for brainwashing the guy.

He made it no more than half a step when he was stopped by October’s hand to his chest. “You will calm down and listen to what the boy has to say.”

Lynk arched an eyebrow at the term “boy,” but when he spoke, he addressed Zasha. “Thane is my twin. We share an energy, which means our magic is twinned and more powerful when we’re together. We can even speak telepathically if we’re close enough to one another.”

That was great, and Zasha was sorry Lynk’s brother was missing. He didn’t see how it pertained to their situation, however.

“I think you are feeling Thane’s energy flowing from me,” Lynk continued, and he sounded exasperated, as though he found Zasha kind of dense. “I don’t know for sure, but I believe that is why you think I’m your mate while it is really Thane who you should be concentrating on.”

“Thane? The man you just said was being held captive in a well? He’s been this close to me for months now?”

Now he got it. Now it made sense, especially considering he’d been feeling what he’d thought was Lynk’s energy for weeks on end. He’d wanted to believe their connection was just that strong, but honestly, he shouldn’t have been able to feel the witch’s magical current with Lynk so far away from him.

There was also the matter of the restless nights he’d spent alone in his bed, convinced Lynk’s essence was tugging at him from miles away. Again, he’d only been deluding himself and ignoring the truth staring him in the face. The magic should have lessened during sleep, not intensified—unless it was Thane he’d been sensing.

When he rested, his mind was more vulnerable than ever and his subconscious took over. If what Lynk said was true, the energy he’d been feeling was the fated bond he had with Thane. It was ingrained in his nature to want to protect his mate, and their connection was screaming out to him, begging for help, even when Thane couldn’t.

Zasha had just been too stubborn and single-minded to listen to his instincts. He’d been so bent on justice and revenge that he hadn’t stopped to consider a possible alternative for what he’d been feeling. Looking back, he could admit that a mating with Lynk had never been that appealing. Sure, the guy was attractive, but there had just been something missing. Still, he’d been too ignorant, selfish, and prideful to admit he could be wrong.

Thane Braddock was being held captive right under his nose and had been trapped inside his own personal hell for months. It seemed illogical that an outsider could or would use their coven lands for such a terrible crime, leading Zasha to the conclusion it was someone he knew—possibly a friend—who was hurting his mate.

His canines dropped, his fingers curled into claws, and an unfamiliar growl rolled through his chest. Rage, white-hot and all-consuming, enveloped him, coursed through his blood, and elevated his body temperature.

“Someone I trusted is hurting him, and that someone will pay for it.”

* * * *

His head lulled against the stone wall as he fought to keep himself upright. The recent rain had flooded the normally dry well, and the icy water had already climbed to his chest. The sun had risen twice since the last time he’d slept, but he couldn’t risk it. If he closed his eyes for even a minute, there was a good chance he’d drown before he could fight his way out of the murky water.

Footsteps sounded in the distance, thundering over the ground and crunching through the underbrush of the trees. Thane wasn’t afraid, though. If it was the vampire who came for him, maybe this time the man would actually kill him. If it wasn’t the bastard who had imprisoned him, perhaps he’d be rescued. He’d been waiting ever since the dream conversation he’d had with his brother.

Either way, whatever happened, at least he’d finally be free.

“He’s not here. Stop. We have to go back.”

Thane recognized the voice of his brother, Lynk. His magic had abandoned him, disappearing along with his waning strength, but he could still feel the weak current of energy flowing from his twin.

A grin stretched his lips, and his shoulders relaxed. He’d known Lynk would come for him. That was what family did, and he’d never doubted his brother’s determination to find him.

There was something else in the air, though.

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