"The bomb is risky," I protest automatically. "You said it could shatter his mind."


    Meanwhile, the rest of my brain is focused on this idea that Selene can somehow control Lucas'' wolf. Really? He''s an alpha. The strongest of the strong. Though, Selene showed her presence as Luna, and that was a force I never expected...


    I am stronger, she asserts, sounding mildly insulted.


    "Don''t shatter it, then. Only weaken the barrier."


    "Not destroy it completely?" I ask again, seeking clarification—because this is nothing like he explained earlier.


    Grimoire''s flames flicker as he nods. "Correct. Your magic would create a weak point, allowing Lucas'' wolf to break through naturally."


    "But then wouldn''t that lead to my wolf side taking over?" Lucas asks, absently running a hand over my hair in a gentle caress. "Wouldn''t that be the outcome we are trying to avoid?"


    "Indeed," Grimoire confirms. "Once your minds reconnect, the wolf will become feral due to the breakdown of your psyche."


    Feral. The image of Lucas'' golden eyes, wild and uncontrolled, flashes through my mind. Reaching up to grab his hand, I link our fingers in a firm grip, even as my hand shakes at the worries of my mind.


    "That''s where Selene comes in, right?" My gaze never leaves Grimoire, my voice steady with false calm. "She can control his wolf. Keep him from becoming feral."


    Grimoire looks pleased. "Precisely."


    Forcing submission is not easy. Not when your opponent is an alpha.


    But she doesn''t sound like she opposes the plan.


    Grimoire continues, his voice taking on a lecturing tone. "As long as Selene maintains control, Lucas will be able to recover his mental strength and regain balance. It''s crucial to understand that Lycan and human souls can only coexist when the Lycan soul is tempered into submission."


    "If that''s so," I interject slowly, turning these facts over in my head, "Why weren''t Lycans like this before? I mean, in the past? Selene was never feral."


    It was uncommon to run across a feral Lycan. Usually a rogue, with too little time spent in a pack.


    Grimoire''s flames dance excitedly, clearly pleased by my curiosity. "Ah, an excellent question! You see, the human mind is inherently too weak to contain a Lycan soul and endure its primal instincts. This is precisely why the shifters of today are much weaker than the Lycans of history."


    Lucas leans forward. "What are these Lycans? This doesn''t sound like proper history."


    "Ava," Lucas murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. "It''s okay. Take your time."


    I feel his hand reach for mine, seeking to offer comfort. Before our fingers can touch, a sharp crack echoes through the room.


    "No physical contact," Grimoire snaps. "It''ll only muddle things further."


    The sound must have been him smacking Lucas'' hand away.


    My ever so patient mate grunts in annoyance but doesn''t argue. I hear him shift on the couch, probably settling back into position.


    "Sorry," I mutter, more to Lucas than Grimoire.


    "Don''t apologize," he says. "You''re doing great."


    But I''m not. I''m failing miserably.


    "You''re thinking too hard," Grimoire chides. "Stop trying to force it. Let the magic flow naturally."


    I want to snap at him, to tell him how easy that is to say when you''re not the one fumbling in the dark. But at some point, I''ve learned more about myself. I can recognize that instinctive reaction as my frustration with myself, not with my teacher. I''m angry at my own incapability.


    And, as Magister Orion cautioned me many times, that frustration is only an obstacle to my eventual success.


    Taking a deep breath, I clear my mind. It''s an easy exercise now, hardly worth a thought in my head.


    I focus on the golden warmth in my chest, imagining it expanding outward. Like tendrils of light that stretch from me, searching for something—anything—to connect with.


    Nothing.


    "Again, it isn''t from there, Ava. You''re looking out now, but that''s still not where it is. Not from here." I can feel his fingers tap my chest. "It''s up here." And then my temple.


    "Okay, okay."


    But even when I fumble up there, there''s nothing. Only Selene. And Grimoire.


    "Such latent talent," Grimoire mumbles. "Yet you''re so dense at picking up the application."