Recise struggled, his eyes still dull with the force of the Compulsion spell as he used his claws to shred Cyn’s arms down to the bone.
Cyn ignored the pain, continuing to squeeze. The demon was already weakened from his blood loss. It wouldn’t take much more to disable him long enough to get to the table.
As long as he didn’t manage to conjure up another fireball, Cyn grimly conceded.
Recise wasn’t the only one who was running on fumes.
He wasn’t sure he could survive another blast.
Distantly he was aware of his brothers fighting for their lives, as well as Fallon who had crept closer to the melee, but he didn’t dare allow his attention to be diverted from the demon he held in his hands.
His fingers dug into the spongy flesh and Cyn felt the demon begin to grow limp. Then, without warning, the dull eyes flashed with something that might have been terror as Recise was able to break free of the Compulsion.
“Spell . . .” he breathed. “You must stop . . .”
The man slumped forward and Cyn dropped him to the ground. The demon might be pretending to be unconscious to lure him into lowering his guard, but he couldn’t afford to wait.
He suspected that it was more than just his wounds that was making him feel as if he was being rapidly drained of his strength.
The spell was clearly affecting him.
And he wasn’t the only one, if Styx’s grunt of pain and Viper’s low curses were anything to go by.
It was now or never.
Leaping over the Zalez demon, he darted straight for the table, hissing in pain as one of the other Oracles rose to their feet to grasp his arm and send jolts of electricity sizzling through his body.
He shoved his hand against the female demon’s face even as he leaned over the table, grasping the amulet.
Another jolt shot through him, nearly making him black out.
Moaning, he managed to reach out and grasp the amulet, then spinning around he used the last of his strength to toss it toward the waiting Fallon.
She snatched it out of the air, her face tight with concentration as she placed the amulet on the floor and laid her hands over it.
Instantly he could feel the heat from her spell fill the air.
And he wasn’t the only one.
As one the Oracles turned in her direction, ending their spell as they simultaneously gathered their powers to strike at Fallon.
“No.” With the last of his strength, Cyn turned to race back to his princess.
He had a last vision of Fallon slamming her fist down on the amulet as the first bombardment of power exploded directly into her back.
Her pained cry sliced through him and he launched himself forward, fully intending to shield her with his body.
But even as he was flying through the air, there was a sudden shimmer and without warning a tall man wearing a robe of purest white suddenly appeared.
Cyn easily recognized Fallon’s father, Sariel.
He had long hair the color of spun gold that was held from his face by a narrow band of silver studded with priceless gems and eyes that were faintly slanted and the color of polished amber flecked with jade.
He was as stunningly beautiful as his daughter, but there was an arrogance etched onto his narrow face that set Cyn’s fangs on edge. Not to mention the glittering hatred in his eyes as he glared at Cyn before he leaned down to scoop the unconscious Fallon in his arms.
With one last glower, he spoke a single word and disappeared with Cyn’s mate.
Cyn bellowed in rage, barely aware of the magic that was smashing into him as he fell to his knees.
Fallon . . .
Chapter Twenty-Four
The barren room that had been carved from pure stone was well hidden behind a secret panel.
There were no windows, no furniture, and the fairy lights that danced in the shadows of the low ceiling were deliberately muted.
In the very center of the stone floor was one wooden bowl half filled with water.
Seated next to the bowl, Fallon pressed a hand to her aching heart as she watched Cyn pace the small meadow over and over.
He looked as gorgeous as always with his body shown to perfect advantage in the faded jeans and cable-knit sweater that was stretched across his wide chest. His hair shimmered like pure gold in the moonlight with the two thin braids framing his face threaded with tiny jade beads.
But even in the darkness she could make out the lines of weariness that marred the beauty of his face and the growing tension in his broad shoulders.
No surprise. This was the third night in a row he’d spent pacing the meadow before being forced to hide during daylight hours in a small, cramped hole he’d dug in the ground.
He was there, of course, because it was one of the few openings to her homeland, and while he couldn’t see or feel it, he could no doubt sense her presence.
And the fact she couldn’t reach him was breaking her heart.
Damn her father.
When she’d awoken to discover she’d somehow been returned to the Chatri palace, she’d instantly tried to return to Cyn.
She not only had to make sure he’d fully recovered from his battle with the Oracles, but she simply needed to be near him.