Gav gave orders for him to be relieved of his other weapons.
Ved breathed in deeply. Unlike that night all those cycles ago, the air was humid. Blood rolled down his temple, and the damage he sustained during the fighting seeped into his awareness. The mud gripped him in its sucking hold as he shifted slightly.
But everything was so much clearer now.
“Remove his chest plate,” Gav ordered. “He’ll die like he was supposed to.”
Weak, his beating hearts said.
Ved was pushed and shoved as the Raxans took his armor from him, but he didn’t take his gaze off Isobel. He’d die a thousanddeaths if it meant she lived. She was his starborn mate. He should have known. He should have taken his mask off for her, let her see him. She, and only she, had that right.
“You do not yield,” Kravis roared as he fought and flexed against his restraints. It was the same thing he’d said as he watched Ved struggle to survive all those cycles ago.
But this was the only way.
Gav let Isobel go, shoving her aside like she was nothing.
The black inferno that had settled within Ved roared back to life.
Raxans moved to restrain him, pulling his arms back. Gav wanted to split him open again, dishonor him.
But Ved did not yield.
It had been a risk, getting on his knees. Gav could have killed her anyway, but Ved had been relying on the fact that his brother was blinded by his bloodlust.
He hadn’t knelt for Gav. He’d knelt forher.
Isobel quickly found her feet. But, pulling something from her sleeve, the object glinting in the pale green moonlight, she ran back toward Gav.
It happened in an instant. Isobel let out a feral cry. A warrior’s yell. Pride and heat rushed through Ved as his wild mate stabbed the object into the small of Gav’s back. She danced out of Gav’s reach as he turned to grab her again.
At the same time, a familiar battle cry shook the very earth beneath Ved. He snapped his attention to Kravis. His bruvya strained against his binds, muscles bulging. The ropes creaked and snapped, the trees groaned and split. He pulled against his restraints, an untamable beast.
And then he was free—impossibly—the cords falling off around him in frayed piles.
Ved saw his opening and lunged.
He staggered the Raxans holding him as he pushed to his feet. There was some grappling as they tried to subdue him again, but Kravis was already charging at them. They had to respond to the rampaging giant of a Xaal.
Gav tried to reach for Isobel again, realizing he’d lost his only shield, but she moved out of his reach once more.
And then Ved was on him.
His eldest brother had all his weaponry at his disposal, yet as Ved tackled him, he seemed too stunned to use the plasma dirk in his hand. But his surprise didn’t last long as they rolled, fighting for the dominant position.
“You can’t kill me. I made you what you are,” Gav hissed as he punched Ved in the throat and tried to stab him in one of his hearts. “But against me, you are still nothing. Weak.”
Ved threw him off, but before Gav could gain his footing, he dragged him back down and landed his own punches. Ved was vulnerable without his chest plate—one slip of a blade through his ribs and he would be done.
But armor didn’t make a Xaal.
When the old him had died in that cold field, he’d been armorless. When he’d fought against blood loss, infection, and fever, he’d been armorless. When he’d gone on the most dangerous hunts against the deadliest beasts and opponents, he’d been armorless.
And this was no different.
Even when Gav managed to get on top of him and bury his plasma dirk in his shoulder, Ved barely registered the pain. While Gav snarled and laughed, thinking he’d beaten him, Ved was channeling—his wrath, his command, his control.
He’d sworn never to be weak again. It was a promise etched into hisvery bones.
