Jackson turned the moment someone somehow snuck up on him and grabbed his hand. His claws extended, ready to rip their throat out, but he slashed through... nothing. A spotlight came on and blinded him for a moment before his eyes adjusted. Layla was not in his arms anymore. Lead settled in his stomach when he realised what had happened. His rage ripped through him instantly, and Cain wrested control from him, half-shifting as he looked around the circular prison that was the main attraction in all Circle trials. It was a raised stage made of silver, surrounded by an invisible ward of dark magic to keep him inside it. And he knew from experience that the Circle’s witches would have also warded the whole room. His jacket and shirt started to rip at the seams, constricting him. It took him seconds to get rid of both as he met the gazes of the people that sat around the stage, only feet away from him. “What are you doing?” he snarled. “Give my mate back to me.” It was no longer him
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