by Rachel Jonas
When Nick stepped up, I grabbed Liam beneath his arms and pulled him back into the shadows, respecting Nick’s warning, but knowing he’d need my help. I couldn’t keep a safe distance and just … watch.
There was no time to be so careful.
I went to his side the next second and he glanced my way, realizing I wasn’t going to stand by and let him face this on his own—in any form he took. Not after he’d come all this way to help me. Not after he stepped up when I needed him most.
The ice between us had completely thawed. The hatred and frustration I allowed myself to feel toward him faded into nothing as we stood side-by-side, possibly facing death together.
That sadistic grin on Sebastian’s face spread as he realized Nick and I wouldn’t go down without a fight.
“Very well then.” The words left his mouth laced with intrigue and amusement. With one glance, a silent command, his soldiers both donned wicked grins, and then shifted.
Fragments of their dark clothing fell to the floor like black petals of some ghastly flower. Muscled, fur-covered limbs swelled to the size of tree trunks before my eyes, and I’d never seen a lycan transition so quickly. Then again, I’d never seen any shift who were as old as these soldiers. They, no doubt, had centuries of practice.
Bearing long, razorlike teeth, there was a challenge in their gazes. With heaving shoulders and chest, Nick readied himself for this inevitable fight. One that, if lost, would mean this had all been for nothing. One that, if lost, would mean the vision Hilda said the Oracles had of me reigning … was false.
It was clear that these prophecies were provisional. That was the word she used. Meaning, what was seen could be altered, affected by my actions, or the actions of others. Simply because the Oracles saw me seated as queen, didn’t mean that couldn’t change.
Right here.
Right now.
Another signal from Sebastian, and beside him, Blaise removed an expensive overcoat, making a show of setting it aside to avoid having it damaged. With the garment out of harm’s way, he violently jerked his neck, from one side, and then the other, readying himself to act on his father’s command. The dark eyes that had been set on mine began to glow an eerie yellow and the room went silent. In an impressive display of power, Blaise kept his wolf bridled, allowing it to emerge only so much before stopping the transition cold. His arms, shoulders, and neck grew to nearly double their size, tearing the seams of his shirt as dreadful teeth protruded from his mouth. Tightly stretched skin with blue veins bulging beneath it made a breath hitch in my throat.
A living, breathing nightmare.
My hands tightened into fists at my sides, clenching as I fought against intimidation, fought against the sense of this fight being over before it even began.
Nick and I were outnumbered, and these lycans had things on their side we couldn’t fake.
Experience.
Skill.
I didn’t turn toward Liam, but was aware of him, feeling my heart race as his life faded with each passing second. The corners of my eyes stung with desperate tears as I, no doubt, stared at the very men who had mangled him. The sense of urgency to get him some sort of help weighed heavy on me, although I didn’t have much hope there was anything anyone could do.
But, even if there was something that could be done … these four presented an obstacle.
One I wasn’t sure Nick and I could overcome.
The soldiers hadn’t moved to pursue us yet, but made a point of flashing those deadly claws. It was clear they could barely contain the urge to rip Nick and I to shreds.
My dragon stepped closer, into my consciousness, but didn’t force her way out. I got the sense that she, that primal side of me, was still reeling from the state in which I found Liam. Their history—the one she forged with his dragon--was long and so intricately knitted. It made it impossible to imagine life without Liam present, impossible to imagine going on if we didn’t both walk away from this alive.
Within me, a burn fluttered inside my chest. It was her, a sign of the seething rage that somehow surpassed fear and all other emotions.
A low hum vibrated in Nick’s chest—a growl, a threat to those who cornered us.
Tension rose, thickening in the air as it reached boiling point. Time slowed. My thoughts became singular, focused in ways I’d never experienced.
A deep, surge of air filled my lungs, and by the time I released it again … all hell broke loose.
In a flash of dark fur and luminescent, yellow eyes, a body hurled toward Nick, knocking him off balance, slamming his back to the unforgiving, cement floor. I watched in horror as those sharp teeth punctured soft flesh. Blood pulsed from Nick’s arm, and when he yelled out, his voice didn’t even sound like his own. It was otherworldly, primitive.
His body was nearly vibrating with rage as he struggled to subdue the powerful lycan who pinned him down. If he would only have shifted … the fight would be fair, and he’d stand a chance, but … he refused.
As long as he was in control he’d refuse.
… which meant I had to do something.
Sebastian and Blaise stood by, watching with excitement in their eyes. To them, this was merely entertainment. For us, it was the fight of our lives. The second soldier stood by, awaiting Sebastian’s command, so I took advantage of their clear underestimation of us, of our willingness to lay it all on the line here today.
I was on the lycan within seconds, gripping his waist, tearing him away from Nick. Yes, I’d just made his problem my own, but it was all I could think to do to help him. The soldier was massive, solid enough to derail a train if he stood in the way of its destination.
A heavy arm came down on my back, pushing those glass shards in deeper, but wincing, nearing tears … I wouldn’t let go. I squeezed even though my fingers began to slip where they locked around the wolf. I squeezed even though my instincts told me to let go and run.
Nick stumbled to his feet the moment I lost my grip, but he was stopped dead in his tracks, slammed down again when he turned his back to rush to my aid. The second soldier had him this time. He wouldn’t make it to me.
I couldn’t hold on another second. I was out of options, out of strength.
But as far as my dragon was concerned … we were just getting started.
Heat filled my limbs, and then flames. The stench of burning fur—disgusting as it was—was the best thing I’d smelled in forever. It was the smell of progress, the smell of the playing field leveling itself off, the smell of one of four lycans quickly becoming a nonfactor.
The cry for help coming from the soldier I clung to exploded in my ears first, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching from behind.
And then … the last sound was a quick, desperate warning from Nick.
There was no time to react to his voice, only time to turn just as a shadowy figure encroached. A jolt of electricity pulsed through my body. First, a jarring pain like nothing else I’d ever felt. Then, I was numb. Feeling returned pretty quickly and I managed to open my eyes, staring into those of Blaise in all his hateful glory.
The shock put me on the ground. All I had was a fuzzy image of him hovering above, clutching the tool used to subdue me—a long stick with electrical currents rippling and surging between two metal prongs on the tip. It resembled a cattle prod, but I guessed with a much higher voltage.
The crackle of flames searing the remains of the soldier’s flesh were disorienting when I didn’t hear movement, but then I noted his lack of screams as well. It became clear he’d succumbed to the fire.
Blaise glanced that way, too, where the fallen lycan must have taken his final breath on the ground.
“Get up,” he seethed, still not placing his gaze on me.
I didn’t move. But it wasn’t fear that kept me lying there on that floor. It was defiance. I hated him—what he’d done to Liam, his smugness.
Wrangled into submission on the ground, Nick fought to throw the soldier off his back. All the
while, keeping his eyes on me, unable to hide his concern. I imagined him at war within himself, knowing how much more helpful it would be if he’d shift, but also knowing how it would increase the risk of him losing control.
I didn’t envy the decision he must have been at odds to make.
“Get up!” Blaise boomed.
This time, his command came with another shove of that godawful stick to my side.
I cried out as electricity ripped through me like an angry tide. My body slumped to the ground and the human side of me wanted to obey, wanted to do as this monster asked so he wouldn’t hurt me again.
My flames extinguished against my will as I struggled to lift my head again. It became clear to me this was Blaise’s goal. His method of torture taught me something about myself, pointed out a susceptibility to electricity. It was as though my shifter was forced to stand down.
At the sight of her fading into the background, at the sight of the bright glow that lit this space a moment ago going dark … Blaise smiled.
“That-a-girl,” he crooned, those words sparking more fight in Nick. A quick glance that way revealed that he was losing the battle to bridle his wolf.
And if that happened … everyone in this room might be in danger.
“Stand. Up,” Blaise hissed between clenched teeth.
One last show of rage from my dragon drew reckless words from my throat, words that were sure to provoke Blaise to take further action.
But … I couldn’t stop her.
“And if I don’t?”
My heart raced at the sound of my voice, at a question that breathed fresh anger into Blaise’s lungs. His brow twitched, probably asking himself if I was stupid or crazy.
If he’d asked me, I would have told him both.
An incredulous laugh chuffed from his mouth when he turned to his father, maybe shocked I hadn’t yet learned my lesson. But when he turned back to me … it was with the fires of hell burning in his eyes.
The sole of a heavy boot slammed my chest, knocking me flat again. Sharp pings of pain scattered across my scalp where a wound had just begun to heal. With the sudden burst of fear that shot through me, another sensation pulsed as well … that invisible thread.
That useless, now dormant, invisible thread.
Once, there would have been someone there to respond to the distress signal my dragon had just put out. Someone would have come to my rescue. But not today. Today, Nick and I were on our own and I accepted that we would die here—wanna-be-heroes who failed halfway into their mission.
I lie there, staring at what I could see of the ceiling through the fog of pain and darkness. The last image I would ever see hovered above me—a smiling sadist who’d get so much joy out of ending me today.
His boot now shielded my view, and as badly as I wanted to shut my eyes to block out the horror, I couldn’t. I felt compelled to see everything as it unfolded.
Power built in Blaise’s thigh and he breathed deep to put as much might as he could muster into stomping me, but … light.
Through the haze I definitely saw light.
Maybe I was delirious.
Maybe the light was similar to what others saw when the moment of death was upon them.
But then, there was that look on Blaise’s face, the one that let me know I hadn’t imagined it.
I didn’t understand.
The condition I found Liam in, the deep gashes in his back … it should have made what I saw next impossible. But right before my eyes, sheathed in flames … were wings.
I thought, for sure, these monsters had taken them.
I hadn’t even had a chance to gage whether this was real when one cut through the air sideways with unimaginable speed, slicing Blaise’s throat with scalpel-like precision.
Stumbling back, Blaise clutched the front of his neck as blood seeped between his fingers, from the corners of his mouth. He could only gurgle a few syllables as his eyes stretched wide from fear, perhaps even more in shock than I was to see Liam standing.
He was weak, he was bleeding from too many places to count, but … he was standing.
My heart, it raced.
It raced like mad.
Strength came out of nowhere and I got to my feet, unable to take my eyes off him, still wondering if this was real. These hours that passed while I thought I’d lost him for good … they felt like I’d died on the inside. Like I’d completely withered away to nothing but a hollowed-out shell. But now … seeing him, I wanted to wrap myself in him and never let go. I wanted to pretend we were out of danger, that we’d already won, but I knew better than to let my guard down so soon.
He taught me that.
Sebastian called the soldier off Nick at the realization he no longer had the upper hand. At his command, the lycan obediently rushed forward to retrieve Blaise, bracing his staggering body to pull him out of harm’s way.
Tension in this now small space rose to heights that didn’t even register—as Sebastian weighed his options, as we weighed ours … as Nick stood and Liam suddenly became aware of him.
For now, that was a secondary issue.
I went to Liam’s side when the adrenaline rush faded, and weakness returned to his knees. His arm was practically limp when I tossed it over my shoulder, letting most of his weight rest on me.
From where he stood, Sebastian snickered, seemingly in limbo someplace between accepting defeat—however temporary it may have been—and contemplating one last move to finish us off while he had the chance. However, Blaise’s vulnerability was too great to ignore, forcing Sebastian to retreat, quickly fleeing down one of several dark corridors hidden among the shadows.
The air was still so charged, even with our enemies now out of sight.
“Why is he here?” The question—one spoken quietly as Liam’s strength dwindled—still packed so much fire, so much distrust as he stared at Nick.
My gaze shifted there too, toward Nick as he stared in the direction of where the others had just fled. He would have easily heard Liam with his heightened sense of hearing, but he barely seemed to notice us at all. His attention was likely focused on whether or not to go after our attackers.
I turned to Liam to answer his question. “He helped me,” I admitted. “Without him, without the others, I never would’ve gotten to you.”
His brow quirked at the word ‘others’.
“His brothers are here, Chris, Lucas, Beth, Dallas,” I shared, feeling my heart swell as I acknowledged again how brave they’d been to follow me.
There was still so much distrust in Liam’s eyes when they shifted back to Nick, but the look soon faded as his consciousness slipped away.
My knees buckled beneath his weight, struggling to keep my grip as his blood-soaked t-shirt made holding on to him nearly impossible.
“Nick!”
I glanced up, thinking he’d come to my rescue, but he wasn’t even aware that I needed him, didn’t seem to notice I’d even called out.
There was so much tension in his arms—so much they seemed to grow as I looked on.
“I should finish this,” he huffed, his broad chest moving with each rapid breath.
My brow tensed, wondering if he was slipping away, wondering if the darkness he fought to control within him had been sparked by his rage.
“What? No! Nick … I need you. Blaise isn’t dead. In fact, he’s probably halfway healed already. We have to get out of here, have to get to the others, and I can’t do it without you,” I pleaded, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes.
I was desperate. More than I’d ever been as I turned to Liam again as his lifeless body slumped against me.
Defeat spread quickly within when Nick didn’t face me, seeming as though revenge, the need to settle the score, was the most important thing.
But then … his head swiveled in my direction and I saw something I wasn’t expecting. Him.
No darkness.
Just … him.
He blinked, suddenly aware of how my grip
on Liam was failing. He rushed to my aid and relieved me of half Liam’s weight, tossing the other arm over his shoulder as we left that awful place. The Sovereign was somewhere in the darkness we emerged from, seething with the fires of revenge, no doubt. But we couldn’t worry about that right now. We came here to do one thing, and one thing only—to rescue Liam.
And thanks to a handful of brave lycans and one fierce dragon with an iron clad will being at my side, we’d done the impossible.
—Chapter Twenty—
Evie
There was no scolding me when I walked through the door behind Dallas as he carried Liam’s body inside. Elise took one look and shock froze her in place. The warning phone call when we made it off that mountain alive did nothing to prepare her for the sight of her loved one covered in a thick layer of his own dry blood.
We had to leave him this way—filthy and in pain. There was nothing any of us could do to fix either because our sole focus was to get him here where, hopefully, Hilda could do something.
The entire drive home, all eight hours, I was silent, sitting in the bed of the pickup while Dallas topped the speed limit the whole way. I cradled Liam’s head in my lap, wiping away what I could from his face with my hands. I stared at him, counting his breaths, hoping each one wasn’t his last.
Something was still wrong. He wasn’t healing, wasn’t getting any better, and my hopes were beginning to fizzle—the reason I was mostly numb when we stepped into the foyer. Hilda ordered Dallas to get him upstairs to the attic where she worked. I barely heard her because all sound was muffled inside my head, all time moved in slow motion. Dread filled me, the feeling that despite all our efforts, despite the brief show of strength when Liam came to my rescue, he still might not make it.
I sat near the door, still wearing clothes covered in my own dried blood, in Liam’s. I couldn’t move. There was an awareness of everyone rushing up both flights of stairs, but I couldn’t follow them. Doing so would make things much too real. If I didn’t go, if I didn’t see him dying, it …
My fingers went to the band on my wrist, and at the feel of it, liquid heat streamed down my cheeks—tears, the ones I’d been warring with for hours now. He wouldn’t have wanted me to cry, wouldn’t have wanted me to worry. But I’d already done so many things to defy his wishes today, adding one more thing was somewhat of a moot point.