In the far corner where Boris fell, there’s another flash of light. The telekinetic energy seems to grow larger; it shoots up in the air then folds in on itself.
“He teleported out,” a new voice rings out.
I turn my head. “Tristan?”
He strides toward me. When he comes to within a foot of me, his gaze falls to the woman in my arms. A growl rumbles up my chest, and I cradle her even closer to my chest.
He stops, then holds up his arms. “I don’t mean any harm to you or to her.”
My skin tightens; my stomach churns. He’s my friend, but he’s a male. I hunch my body over her. I will not allow any other man near her. No one but me gets to take care of her.
“I am on your side, Dante.” His voice is steady, low pitched.
One of Boris’ soldiers takes a step forward. Tristan raises his finger. A burst of fire hits the man who promptly stumbles then collapses to the ground.
The rest of Boris’ soldiers take in his fallen body. One of them throws down his gun. The others follow.
More footsteps thud, then men race out of the entrance of the arena and surround us. The Fae Corps have arrived.
“I overheard the commander talking to you." Tristan stalks forward, "I knew then he was already losing his ability to think straight.” His eyebrows draw down,
“Well, it took you long enough to get here.” Anger churns my guts.
He angles his head. “Boris had me and the rest of the Fae Corps imprisoned. It took us a while to escape.”
“This cannot happen again.” I sweep my gaze over the remnants of the audience, the fallen body of Boris’ soldier, the others being pushed face down by the Fae Corps.
“It won’t.” One side of Tristan’s lips curls.
“You sound very confident.”
“I am. With you as our new commander, I know you’ll never let things descend to such chaos again.”
I crack my neck.
The movement trembles down my arms toward Gia, and she moans in my arms. My gaze drops to her face. “Fuck,” I swear. Her cheeks are pale; sweat beads her forehead. “I need to get out of here and tend to her.”
37
Gia
White sound surrounds me. I feel like I am still moving, caught in a vortex that ebbs and flows around me. It pulls me apart. My skin feels too tight for my body. The scent of blood is thick in the air. The sounds of screams fill my ears.
They’re coming for me.
I try to move and find I can’t. My limbs drag me down. The sense of hopelessness grips me; bile curdles in my stomach. I need to get out of here, but how? Everywhere I look there are bodies burning. I try to run only to stumble and fall. Pain rips up my side. “Please,” I stutter. “Let me go.”
“You’re the reason for my losing this city." Boris widens his stance, "I am going to hunt you down, and hurt those nearest to you. I am going to kill him…then you.”
“No.” Anger twists my guts. “I’ll never let you hurt Dante.” I push myself to my feet. My legs tremble. I grip my hands at my sides and force myself to take a step forward, then another.
The monster faces me. He lifts his hand and points his finger at me. The tips glow blue. The air around me grows thin. The hair on forearms rise. “I am going to kill you.” It’s only when my feet hit the ground that I realize I am running. Pain floods my chest, and I almost double over. My throat feels raw, yet I don’t stop. Keep going. I move so fast the wind screams past. My ears elongate, my bones shudder. The pressure behind my eyes builds, and my vision narrows. I bare my lips. My teeth feel like they are being pushed out, and my canines slide out, piercing my skin.
Another jolt of pain slashes down my neck.
Something inside me gathers, drawing on all the energies that have been stored in different parts of me. Energies I didn’t know existed, that are potent. They are sucked into my very center, folding in on themselves. White and red and blue, all the colors cluster into a ball which explodes. The energy pulses out in waves, concentric circles of heat and pain which gather at my fingertips.
Boris widens his stance and props his arms on his waist. Those dark eyes blaze at me. “We are not done yet.” He leers.
I hold out my hands, palms facing each other. The energy swells between them. My fingertips tingle. The muscles of my forearms twitch. Rolling the energy into a ball I hurl it at the monster.
It hits him in the chest and blows through him. His body bends and crumples in on itself. And yet those eyes, they keep looking at me, burning into my skull.
“He’s coming for me.” Fear bubbles up. My heart races. Sweat streams down my forehead, plastering my hair to my face. Something shakes my shoulder. “No.” I try to shake it off.
“Gia.”
The pain balloons inside me, growing bigger and bigger. My nails slide out, piercing my skin. Blood trickles from my fingertips. It streams from my eyes and drips from my ears. “No, I don’t want this.”
“Gia, baby, open your eyes.”
The voice is familiar, and yet that endearment…no one has called me that. No one can feel so much for me. The pain in the voice… The ball of heat in my chest twinges. It’s growing bigger, stronger, threatening to tear out of me. My chest lunges forward, my spine bends, and every part of me aches for his touch. For his scent. For him.
“Dante.” My eyes fly open.
And I see him. His features are pinched. The skin over his cheeks stretches white. There are dark circles under his eyes. The skin around it is marked purple. “You look terrible.” I hiccough.
One side of those beautiful lips draws back in a smirk. And it’s as if nothing else matters. Not the fact that something is happening to me, that I am changing beyond recognition. That I’d just been in a fight, that I’d helped to put away the monster. “He’s not dead.” My voice is soft.
All emotions are wiped off his face. His lips tighten.
“He’s not going to harm you. I’ll make sure no one comes near you again.” His throat moves as he swallows. “When I saw him hurt you, Gia…” He squeezes his eyes shut.
“You were afraid for me?” There’s a warm feeling in my chest. It’s like honey, sweet and sticky. Like the calm after a particularly fierce storm.
He cracks his eyelids open and peers down at me. “I cannot lose you.”
He leans over me, his arms on either side of my chest. Only then do I realize I am in bed, in his bed. We are back at the safe house in Sochi.
The scent of him is all around me, layers of it wafting off the sheets, pluming off his skin. It surrounds me, as if its presence is a living, breathing thing that ties me to him. “What have you done to me?”
The words roll off my tongue before I can stop them.
His jaw tightens, and a pulse beats at his temple. “I mated you.”
“You fucked me.” Why am I doing this? There is this need to hurt him that chafes my insides. It compels me to hold his gaze, to thrust out my chin and push my back into the bed. It’s a clear sign of withdrawal.
His forehead furrows.
He knows it, too.
I can’t explain it, honest. He’s my mate, I know that. He saved my life, and I… “How did I do that?”