Naida pressed the knife harder into Niniane’s neck.
The monster bared his teeth and plunged forward.
Naida said to Durin, “Kill him.”
Durin’s grip in her hair loosened. She tried again to throw herself on the knife, but Naida shifted to take Durin’s place, holding her jaw in a bruising grip and forcing her head back. Durin strode forward, and time fell its inevitable fall, both backward and forward, toward that jagged place where everything shattered into pieces forever, and she screamed out her heart as the Dark Fae male impaled Tiago on his sword—oh god mother—
And Niniane stared as Tiago thrust himself farther onto that murderous sword, all the way to the hilt, his powerful body the most real and dangerous weapon, as he snaked his head forward, and with one wicked-fast snap of his teeth he tore out Durin’s throat.
Blood sprayed across Tiago’s face. It poured in a river from the sword in his abdomen. Tiago spat out flesh as Durin’s body collapsed to the ground. The twin blazing stars that were Tiago’s eyes fixed on her again. His face was slick and red. He went down on one knee.
“My gods, he’s an abomination.” Naida’s breathing sounded in her ear, as harsh and ragged as her own.
She said between her teeth, “I told you this was not going to go the way you thought it would.”
His head bowed. He sagged forward. Tiago.
Behind them, Cameron said in a hard, cold voice, “Drop the knife, Naida.”
Cameron sounded so confident and her words seemed so misplaced, Naida actually twisted around with Niniane to look. Niniane tried to turn her head to keep her eyes on Tiago, but Naida’s hand was clenched so tight on her jaw she couldn’t move.
Cameron stood ten feet away. One side of her face had already blackened from Durin’s blow. She had both of Niniane’s derringers, the gun in one hand pointed to the ground. She held the other gun aimed at Naida’s head.
“Do you think I would give up my only leverage now, especially for such a stupid and ignorant bluff as this?” Naida said. “Your weapons technology does not work here, human.” She said to Niniane, “Get up. We will have to make for Adriyel, you and I, and then we will see what Urien’s old supporters think of you—”
Naida started upright. Niniane didn’t move. She didn’t know if it was a smart thing to do or not. She simply could not leave Tiago.
Naida screamed in her ear, “Get up right now, or I will gut you in front of everyone!”
“Risk and benefit, huh,” Cameron said with a grim smile. She pulled the trigger.
The gun exploded.
There was too much blood, of course.
The beast kept his face turned toward his mate as he fell to the ground. He kept his face turned toward her even though a haze came over his sight and blanked out the farthest reaches of the clearing so that he could no longer see her.
Someone with a tawny head bent over him. He almost lunged upward to tear out this one’s throat too, but the tawny-haired one had a scent that was long familiar, and so the beast held back to watch and wait.
“Goddamn, T-bird, look at what you’ve done to yourself this time,” said the familiar one. He took hold of the sword’s hilt and pulled it out. The beast hissed at the liquid burning slide as the blade left his flesh. The tawny male tore off his shirt and pressed the wadded material against the beast’s wound, and shouted, “ARYAL. Why isn’t he starting to heal? Here, put pressure here.”
Another familiar one knelt beside him, her eyes blazing with fear and fury, but it wasn’t his mate. “Got it.”
Then his mate was there, his beautiful, precious mate. His world had burst out of his chest when he had returned to the tent to find she had gone missing. Now she brought it back to him, and it was such a blessed relief to see and smell her—but she had bled from her wrists and neck—he snarled as he caught the fresh scent of her blood and struggled to rise up and slaughter the ones who had done this to her—
“Somebody cut me loose,” his mate said. “Oh gods, Tiago, stay down.”
He subsided and sighed as she bent close to press her cheek to his. “Only one person,” he whispered to her. “Only one thing.”
“I can’t lose you,” she said. Rune cut her hands free, and she wiped the blood off Tiago’s face. She pressed her lips against his. She was trembling. “You have to fight for us. Fight as hard as you can, do you hear me? Hold on.”
Always.
“He’s talking to her but he hasn’t come out of the partial shift, and he’s still bleeding out,” said Aryal between her teeth. “What the hell is wrong? We’re going to lose him unless someone figures out what to do right now.”
“It’s the shackles,” his mate said suddenly. “Urien made them to imprison Wyr—they suppress a Wyr’s Power. These are the ones that held Dragos and we need the key—” She pushed to her feet and raced away, and his world grew dim again. “It isn’t in her pack!”