Read i 0e57392105b539eb Online
Authors: Unknown
running down her cheeks in rivulets. Her bottom lip trembled from the
cold, and hard shivers wracked her, but she faced Wyn with her head up
and her back straight.
“So, that’s the plan? Kill me to hurt Kai?” Honestly, she didn’t care
what scheme he and the elders had designed. She just needed to keep
him talking, keep him distracted.
“You are toxic, a disease to our world and our ways.” He spoke with
heat, but not conviction, like an actor reciting from a script. “You, Ivy
Dalton, are the bringer of death.”
“Who told you that?”
A dusky hue illuminated the hill as the sun crept over the horizon.
Only minutes had passed since she’d left her quarters, but when she
didn’t arrive at the shuttle, Tira would come searching for her.
Eventually, the guards, Kai, and everyone else would deduce what had
happened, and they’d scour the island to find her.
Unfortunately, it could be hours before that happened, and she didn’t
have time to wait for a rescue. Guards patrolled the perimeter of the
Valley, and more walked the cobblestone street that ran past the elders’
homes. From the distance, they’d never hear her over the deluge of rain.
She was on her own against a crazy sentry with a sword and a
grudge. Not ideal, but she’d been in tighter spots. If she could take on a
Krytos and walk away with all of her limbs attached, she could handle
one pointy-eared asshole.
Slowing her breathing, she inhaled deeply through her nose and
exhaled through her lips. Wyn continued to rant about how she’d bring
war and destruction to the planet, but she shut him out, focusing only on
her pulse as she emptied her mind, until the world around her slowed.
A glare of light somewhere to the left drew her attention, and she
shifted just her shoulders, searching for the object in her peripheral. A
missed shard of glass from the bottle she’d broken earlier in the week
glinted in the thin beams of sunlight that peeked through the clouds. Not
her first choose in defensive weaponry, but it was better than nothing—
if she could reach it without being caught.
Hyper-focused, she slid her left boot through the mud, inching
toward the cluster of rocks that hid the glass. Just because everything
looked slower through her eyes didn’t mean she moved at supersonic
speeds. Any move she made would be detectable in real-time to anyone
watching.
Wyn paced the small clearing, his jerky, agitated movements more
robotic in slow motion. Preoccupied by his evil villain monologue, he
looked at her only infrequently, but in some ways, that made it more
difficult for Ivy to maneuver since she never knew when he’d glance in
her direction.
“Your kind has to be eradicated,” he continued, his voice distorted in
the rain that thundered against the ground. “Once you’re gone, we’ll be
safe. Vasili Blackthorn will be devastated, of course. Who knows if he’ll
survive the heartbreak?”
Ivy was out of time.
Wyn’s hand went to the dagger on his belt, and he slid the steel blade
from his sheath as he advanced on her. Jerking back, Ivy twisted to the
right when he slashed through the air at her. She was fast, just not fast
enough. The sharp blade cut into her shoulder, a shallow gash, but deep
enough to draw blood.
Gritting her teeth against the pain, she scrambled toward the broken
glass, sliding and skidding through the thick mud. Like in the hallway,
Wyn appeared in front of her, blocking her way as he lunged at her with
the dagger again.
The tip of the blade arched toward her in slow motion, and she angled
to the right, pressing the heel of her hand to his wrist and shoving his
arm away. In the same movement, she crouched on the ball of her left
foot, using her right to sweep the sentry’s legs, dropping him into the
mud.
He vanished again, only to reappear behind her, toppling her over so
that she landed on her knees. Tangling his hand in her wet hair, he jerked
her head back, turning her face up to the sky so that the rain pelted
against her cheeks.
Fuck, she hated magic.
The point of the dagger pressed into the hollow of her throat, the cold
steel clinking against the pendant that rested between her collarbones.
Even the wishing stone wouldn’t help her now. Kai was too far away to
lend her his magic, and even if he stood right beside her, she only knew
how to produce pretty, dancing flames that would extinguish quickly in
the downpour.
“I’m sorry,” Wyn murmured in her ear. “I’m only doing what’s
necessary. Don’t fight.” He jerked her hair again when she tried to twist
toward him and pressed the blade tighter to her throat. “This will be over
soon.”
Refusing to die on her knees like a coward, Ivy threw her head back,
wincing when she connected with Wyn’s jaw. His hand still tangled in
her hair, he stumbled backward, dragging her with him so that she fell
sideways into a shallow puddle. Her knee twisted at an unnatural angle,
sending white-hot pain lancing up her thigh and into her hip, but she
forced herself to keep moving.
Wrenching away from him, she lunged forward, low-crawling
toward the rocks and broken glass—anything she could use as a weapon.
Gaining his bearings, Wyn chased after her, tripping and sliding through
the mud until he could grasp her ankle. Ivy shook off the weak grip and
rolled onto her hip, kicking her other foot upward at the guard’s face.
The heel of her boot slammed into Wyn’s nose with a sickening
crunch, and he howled in pain as blood poured down his mouth and
over his chin. Given recent events, Ivy couldn’t quite find it within
herself to feel sorry for him.
“Stupid bitch!” he bellowed, swiping wildly at her with his dagger.
The world came rushing back to full speed when he caught her on
the third swing, slicing her across the chest, right above her left breast.
Blood spilled from the wound, seeping through the rip in her tunic and
mingling with the rain water. Sharp, blinding pain tore through her,
stealing her breath and making her head spin.
Crying out, she drew on her waning strength and leapt toward the
group of jagged rocks—only to have her fingers scrape over the toe of
Wyn’s boot. With an enraged roar, he plunged the cold blade into her
back near her shoulder blade, just missing her spine.
Screaming, Ivy slumped to the ground, her vision darkening at the
edges as she battled to stay conscious. The pain consumed her, gnawing
at her nerve endings like a rabid animal. Bile rose up in her esophagus,
burning the lining of her throat, and her temples pounded, tension
squeezing her head until she felt sure it would explode.
A loud, ear-splitting roar filled the clearing, echoing down into Ivy’s
bones. She’d never heard anything so terrifying, but she wasn’t afraid.
The sound gave her strength, dragging her back from the darkness.
Grinding her teeth together, Ivy pushed up from the ground, screaming
again when she nearly passed out from the agony the simple movement
caused.
“Kai.” She called her mate’s name, her voice thick and strained. “Kai,
don’t kill him.”
Prying her eyelids open, she stared up through the driving rain.
Standing atop the hill like a beautiful, vengeful god, Kai held the sentry
by the throat, shaking him like a ragdoll as he drove his fist into the
male’s face repeatedly. Wyn didn’t fight back. In fact, he didn’t seem to
be moving much at all.
“Don’t move, Ivy Dalton.” Crouching beside her, Tira pressed a strip
of folded cloth to her shoulder to staunch the blood flow, winching when
Ivy choked on a loud cry. “Hold on to me,” the captain instructed. “I’m
taking you back to the citadel.”
“No.” Ivy shook her head weakly, still struggling to remain upright.
“Stop him, Tira. He’s going to kill him.”
“As well he should.”
It was the first time she’d ever heard Tira angry, and the coldness in
the female’s voice competed with the chill of the rain.
“I know, but he can’t.” Ivy coughed and wheezed, sucking in a
hissing breath through her clenched teeth. “We have to find out who he’s
working with.” Her tongue felt too thick for her mouth, and her eyelids
began to droop. “We have to question him.”
“We already know with whom he’s working.”
Ivy shook her head again. “We have no proof. Tira, stop him.”
“He won’t listen to me, Ivy Dalton, and nor should he. Now, come,
you need a medic.”
“Kai!” She called his name with as much strength as she could
muster. “Kai, please!”
Without a word, Kai finally stopped pulverizing Wyn’s face to turn
and look at her. Fury sparked in his golden eyes, but as soon as he met
her gaze, he dropped the sentry into an unmoving heap and strode
toward her. Dropping to his knees, he slid his arms beneath her legs and
around her waist, lifting her gently into his strong arms.
“You’re going to be okay, dove. I’m going to make it okay. I love you
so much.” He continued to murmur sweet words, distracting Ivy from
the pain as he rose to his feet, cradling her against his chest. “Tira?”
“Yes, sir?”
He looked over his shoulder at Wyn’s unconscious body and sneered.
“Do something with that.”
Struggling to keep her eyes open, Ivy barely noticed when Kai
transported them off the sodden, bloody hilltop and back to their
quarters in the citadel.
“You’re okay. You’re okay.” Kai continued to repeat the phrase,
muttering it like a prayer as he carefully removed her wet clothes and
wrapped her in a warm, fluffy blanket. “The medic will be here any
second. You’re okay, dove.”
She wanted to say something to reassure him, or tell him that she
loved him, but she couldn’t make her mouth work right. Her lips
trembled, and her teeth chattered, clacking together violently when her
jaw tightened with another wave of sharp, stabbing pain.
Delirious and only half-conscious, strange, errant thoughts wormed
their way into her head. The most important of those being that she’d
gotten her ass handed to her by Santa’s fucking helper. The elf in
question had magic, but still, as soon as the Alliance found out…
Stars, if she survived, she was never going to live this down.
For two days, Kai alternated between being scared out of his mind, and
being so furious, he could barely see straight. Every inch of him wanted
to march up to the holding rooms on the second level and remove Wyn
Nightstar’s head from his shoulders.
He didn’t. Not because of his morality, but because he couldn’t leave
Ivy. Medic Winters had assured him that while painful, her injuries
weren’t life-threatening. He’d given her leaves from the enderash bush
to help her sleep, and a mixture of synthetic pain blockers to ease the
discomfort. Then he’d cleaned the cut on her chest and dabbed it with
ointment to prevent infection.
The wound on her back had required more extensive treatment to
repair the muscles and tendons, a procedure that could only be
performed in the healing clinic. It had taken six guards and the use of
Tira’s magic to restrain Kai when the medic had attempted to transport
his mate from the room. The captain had even threatened to dose him
with the enderash leaves if he didn’t calm himself.
With so little of the
amrita
available, the use of the flower was
restricted to only life-threatening ailments. That hadn’t stopped Kai from
demanding that the medics use the petals to heal his mate. He’d
transported to the cavern beneath the Valley himself, plucked three of
the red-and-orange petals, and returned before anyone could even think
to question him.
Perhaps because of his position as Vasili—more likely because he was
half crazed, bordering on violent—no one argued with him. The medics
had taken the flower and created a topical salve to administer to Ivy’s
injuries, assuring Kai more than once that her wounds would heal within
hours.
She still needed rest, though. With wariness, Medic Winters had
explained that she’d pushed her fragile human body too hard for too
long, and it could be some time before she awoke.
Dismissing everyone from his quarters, Kai had settled his dove into
their bed, tucking the blankets around her carefully. Then he’d pulled
her favorite armchair to the side of the mattress so he could watch over
her while she recovered.
Attendants brought him food, which he mostly ignored, and Tira
checked in twice daily with updates and reports. Kai nodded when she
spoke, but truthfully, he never remembered what she’d said once the
female left the room.
Cami and Sion took turns sitting with him, but neither of them spoke
much, a fact for which he was immeasurably grateful. The shifter’s guilt