Without hope.
Lyra
He did not respond.My beast was not happy.Mate angry.
He’s busy,I insisted.
She scoffed as I scanned the building, reporting positions of the Scions to the two teams. Their Coalition issued battle helmets were good. Their drones were good. I.C. tech was better. I could see through walls. My gear analyzed and decrypted their frequency shifting energy fields faster than they adjusted. Nothing could hide from me. I didn’t just see through the entire compound like it was made of glass, I could shoot through the walls, if I needed to. Through several feet of concrete or metal.
Protect. Mate. Go!
What do you think I’m doing?
She hated being stuck up here, alone, away from the fight. But we weren’t just protecting Ethan. The others were down there. Our brother was down there. Bahre, Krag and Rohn had mates who would mourn their loss. They were loved.
My beast would have to deal with reality. She was strong, but we could do more damage to the Silver Scions from here. A lot more.
The rooftop stank of rust, wet tar, and pigeon shit baked into concrete under decades of Miami sun. The old ventilation unit I was nestled behind groaned every time I shifted my weight, like it resented being touched.
My prone position was awkward—elbows bruised against gravel, cheek pressed to the rifle stock, the scope slicing lines of ghostly blue, red and yellow figures through reinforced walls. A curl of hair stuck to my sweat-slicked jaw and I didn’t dare move to fix it. I was overwatch and support. I also considered myself Ethan’s personal guardian. I was determined to do everything I could to protect him from the scariest assholes I’d ever encountered. I’d stay here all night if I had to.
The night air clung to my skin like static, thick with the smell of the ocean and an approaching storm. My rifle’s scope was already synced to my helmet’s targeting program. All I had to do was breathe and squeeze.
I watched the two teams move. The Scions respond. Their heat signatures blinked on and off like ghosts as my gear adapted to their frequency shields and our team took them out. “Five more. Third floor. Two still in stasis, sublevel one.”
A beat of silence followed. “Five on three. Two below.” Warlord Bahre’s voice was easily recognizable.
They’d already eliminated half the Silver Scions in the building. This would be over soon. Then I could talk to Ethan, beg him to listen, to give us a chance. Explain myself.
Tell him what he was to me.
Mine! Mate!My beast was frustrated and angry with me for lying to him. For not putting mating cuffs on his wrists.
For letting him out of her sight. Which, technically, wasn’t my fault.
Mine!
I know. Trust me. We will tell him.And pray to the gods he wouldn’t take one look at us and run.
Mate! I track him down. Keep. Mine.
I reassured her that was exactly what we would do, although the truth was more complicated. If he refused our claim, we could only have one option left open to us.
I couldn’t separate myself from the beast and she wouldn’t survive without him. Gods help us. I didn’t need a mirror to know what I looked like now.
My clawed fingers flexed around the rifle—not hands anymore, weapons.
The claws slid out on command, thin as blades and tough enough to shred steel.
I’d tested them, sliced the front of a stainless steel refrigerator before taking Adrian’s car.
I’d kept my nature hidden for so long, let him believe I was human. Never showed him my beast.
I’d been a coward, afraid he would look at me with hate for merely being an Atlan female. Now that I was such a freak? Maybe he’d look at me and feel nothing but pity.
I’d rather be shot through the heart than see pity or disgust on his face. An Atlan female could pass for human. What I was now, in my beast form, could not.
None of that mattered now. Not the truth. Not the pain. Not even the heartbreak bleeding like acid through my ribs.
