For Me,There Is Only You |18+|

71. Wounded Peace

And just like that, I was back on lockdown.

The only update I got about what had happened came from Ezra himself when we returned home.

Apparently, the reason no one had been able to contact Ansel or Ezra, and why Ansel hadn't even mind-linked me, was because the place they went to was a trap.

The shadow weavers had intentionally left behind a trail; one they knew either Phoebe or Kyler would eventually pick up. It was bait—and they took it.

Ansel and Ezra were ambushed. A wave of O and A-grade shadow weavers attacked them all at once. And even though the two of them fought back fiercely and were holding their own, the shadow weavers had come prepared.

They'd set a trap using nullithium.

The crystals worked on Ezra, suppressing his powers almost completely. Ansel didn't go down as easily—maybe because he'd built up some kind of resistance over time.

But even with that, it was bad.

Bad enough that Ezra got seriously hurt.

Bad enough that Ansel had to hand over control to Zev. He needed the strength and ruthlessness only Zev could bring to end it quickly.

Zev took over, slaughtered the remaining shadow weavers, and teleported both of them back to the house.

That's when he realized I wasn't home. Cue Karson's phone call to Ansel, which Zev picked.

And from there? Everything detonated.

Still, at least one good thing came out of this mess.

Milo.

Using her echo touch, Phoebe had seen that Milo was planning to smuggle children through the sea, hidden inside shipping containers at the port. She immediately alerted Noel and Kyler with the location.

Then she went around the club, trying to find me and Genesis. She found Genesis, but not me. That's when she panicked and alerted the others.

And the rest? Well... they found me on the stage. With Zev. I don't think I need to go into detail about what happened after that.

"I'll handle the rest."

Zev's words before he left echoed in my mind.

He'd gone to the port with Kyler and Nathan, and we still hadn't heard a single word about what happened after that.

I stood anxiously on the porch, my eyes flitting from the flower bed to the empty dirt road beyond.

"I told you to rest and stop moving around so much," Genesis's voice called from the living room.

I stepped inside just in time to see Ezra coming down the stairs.

He looked like hell—pale, drawn, and slightly off balance. His fingers gripped the banister tighter than necessary.

"I'm fine," he muttered, voice gravelly.

Genesis snapped around so fast you'd think she'd been waiting for him to say that.

"The hell you are. You looked like roadkill when we found you. You were bleeding out, and half your arm was black from the poison. If I hadn't gotten to you in time, you wouldn't even have an arm right now."

Ezra didn't respond. Just lowered himself onto the leather sofa with a wince, like every movement cost him more than he let on.

The memory flashed in my mind—Ezra collapsed on the couch last night, his shirt soaked with blood, surrounded by half-empty vials of healing potions he'd clearly raided from Genesis's lab.