81. Unalive (Luke POV)

The instant the sensation washed over me, a gut-wrenching blend of urgency and distress, I knew its origin. It was that loathsome potion my father would use, a concoction designed to pull at the fibers of the bond between two individuals.

I had felt it before, always as a tool of manipulation, and the familiarity sickened me. But woven into that was something else—a constant caress over the mate mark, sending ripples across the bond like urgent Morse code. It was like Lexi was sending me an emotional telegram, urging me that she was alright and that we needed to come to her.

Next to me, Clay picked up on the agitation but couldn't place it. He began pacing around the room, his movements erratic, muttering "Oh shit, oh shit," under his breath like a mantra of doom. It was the first time he'd felt the pull of such a potion, a volatile cocktail that jerked at our instincts and summoned us toward its origin.

I felt it, too, a newfound fortification in the bond, almost like invisible threa