Since his death, the Order had been vulnerable and fragmenting, as no one had ascended into the role of leader. According to Calydon lore, a leader would naturally emerge when the time was right, but no one had landed in the middle of the ballroom with a nametag declaring him as the next Order leader, so they were still flying solo and it wasn't going well. They were running missions out of Dante's mansion, which now served as their headquarters.
Why would they want to take Alice back to Dante's place? "I came after Alice because I thought she would help me fight off the curse. That's why I'm here. What the hell else is going on?" He hadn't been in close contact with the rest of the Order in almost two months. He and Vaughn had been searching relentlessly for Alice and the man who had murdered her, a man named Flynn Shapiro who appeared to be the same race of beings as Vaughn, whatever that was.
Ry shook his head once. Sharply. "You've been cut out of the loop. You're in no shape to handle the truth, Fitz."
Ian stiffened. "What does that mean?"
"No more fighting for you, Fitz. Not right now. Your job is to get the girl and bring her home."
Ian saw the unyielding set to Ryland's jaw and realized he spoke the truth. He'd been banned from the front lines, and cut from the inner circle. Son of a bitch. "I can't be benched. The Order is what I live for—"
"Right now, you're a vacuum for despair and hell, and you can't see past your own issues. We needed you in the woods with Kane, and you weren't there. The team made a decision. Until you pull your shit together, you're out of combat and out of the information loop." Ry's eyes flashed. "Be a fucking man, Ian. Do your job. There aren't enough of us to save this ship without you. We need you." Then he turned on his heel and strode back toward the water, toward Alice.
Ian ran his hand through his hair as he watched Ryland stride toward the water to pursue Alice, the woman who had destroyed everything for him. Before he'd met her, he'd been in control of the curse. He'd also been tracking well toward finding the bastard who'd issued it, and he'd been honoring the legacy of his father and grandfather by becoming one of the most deadly members of the Order of the Blade. He'd been surviving, shoving forward to discharge his oath, until he'd met her a year ago. All had been good until Alice had landed in his arms and his teammate had killed her in the name of the greater good, sending him into a year of hell.
She was his Achilles heel, his vulnerability. She was the reason he'd been derelict in his duties lately. Escorting her back to the Order? Exposing himself to her again? He knew now it wasn't worth the risk of jeopardizing everything that mattered to him: the Order, his oath, restoring his family honor.
It was time to go. Ryland had it under control.
But as Ian turned away, his instincts roared at him not to leave Alice. He clenched his fists and kept walking, knowing his only chance to stay alive was to get away from her influence. He would be doing no one any favors if he died, and now that Ryland was convinced she was one of the Order's three guardian angels, she would be well-protected.
So she was safe. It wasn't his job to protect her anymore.
But as he got further away from her, a sheen of sweat broke out over his skin, and his head began to pound. His muscles were so taut that they pulsed with pain, like an invisible cord was binding him to Alice, and it was stretching to the breaking point.
Ian fisted his hands and lowered his head, as though he were fighting a hurricane force wind trying to stop him from leaving. He focused on things that mattered: the cold metal of his father's ring, his connection to a family that was long dead, a father who had died because of what he'd done, and what he had to fix.
There was a loud splash that made Ian jump, and instinctively, he spun around, searching the water for Alice. She wasn't at the rock where he'd last seen her. Panic hit him before he found her at the base of one of the massive black rocks