“That bitchis giving you three seconds to walk away before your disemboweled guts become snacks for the ravens.”
If this situation weren’t so tense, I’d enjoy how blanched and horrified they look. The purple-haired fae woman calls a transportation spell in the blink of an eye, vanishing and leavingthe others behind. Meanwhile, the other three legacies are so aghast that they don’t move despite my warning.
I arch a brow. “One. Two. Th?—”
“Wait!” the bald fire elemental cuts me off, raising his hands as he sputters. “Please, just wait. I don’t know what’s happening here, but if you’re really back, they’ll want to see you immediately. They’ve got the power to pardon you. Come with me, and?—”
Before he can finish speaking, the other male turns out to also be a caster when he panics and sends a magical attack hurtling straight toward me. I tackle Everett, rolling us both out of the way just before the attack chars the place where we were just standing.
Shards of ice explode around us as Everett’s temper slips, but he’s not the only one they just pissed off. I’m on edge enough with three of my matches out for the count without having to deal with idiots who don’t take my threats seriously.
Time for them to learn how seriously they should take “Maven Oakley,” because I didn’t come back just to let people fuck with us.
I roll back to my feet, bolting toward the three hostile legacies. The girl caster launches an attack that I dodge before rolling under a burst of flames that the elemental directs at me. Grabbing the fire elemental’s still-extended arm, I twist it sharply to maneuver him in front of me—just in time for him to become a living shield for a cutting spell the male caster flings in his blind scramble to escape.
The bald elemental screams as deep cuts rip through his stomach, spilling his innards. I drop him and realize the panicked male caster has already been frozen solid by Everett, since he stupidly fled outside of the protective spell.
The remaining caster launches a stupor spell that slams into Everett before he can reach us. He collapses. That only stokesmy fury as I run toward her, hurling my etherium knife at her protective shield. It bounces off, but spells like this can only absorb so much impact before collapsing.
From the direction of the temple, I hear Douglas shout in pain before a snarl rips through the air. I don’t have time to focus on it as I crash through the fleeing caster’s spell—but an electrocution hex flies from her fingertips, burrowing into my skin. Tingling numbness tears through my limbs, forcing my knees to give out as I nearly bite my tongue off.
I grimace, trying to shake off the daze of painful electrocution that is still sending miniature spasms through my nervous system. I manage to roll over and look up just as the girl extends her hand over me to cast a fatal spell.
But something blurs behind her before her head is yanked back roughly, exposing her neck for Not-Baelfire to rip her throat out with his teeth.
She drops dead. The shifter flings her jugular aside before his eyes connect with mine, and?—
His pupils are round.
Oh, my gods.
This isn’t the beast at all. It's him.
“Baelfire,” I breathe as relief crashes over me like cold water.
He’s trembling with rage and shock, covered in a sheen of sweat, and wildly disoriented as he drops to his knees beside me on the cold asphalt. He pulls me tightly to his incredibly warm chest.
“Boo,” he rasps, burying his blood-smeared face in the side of my neck to inhale deeply. “Fuck, are—are you really?—”
“I’m here. I’m alive.” I hug him back even tighter, desperate for these next words to stay with him even when his dragon takes over again. “I love you.”
“Y—you…” he starts to echo in bewildered disbelief.
“I love you,” I repeat firmly. “I should have told you sooner.”
A sob tries to work its way up his throat, and I know I’m not imagining the moisture on my neck. It’s fucking brutal to see him this broken as he clings to me, agony in his voice.
“I love you, too. So fucking much. Please don’t leave me again. Ever, Maven.Please.”
“I won’t,” I whisper. “I promise.”
After a moment, Baelfire makes a hoarse sound. When I pull back to see what’s wrong, his face is a mask of torture as he grips his head. His pained, miserable golden gaze meets mine again.
“I’m trying to stay,” he chokes. “But I—I just can’t get a fucking grip. I can’t?—”
All at once, his words cut off as his pupils elongate into slits. He’s gone as the dragon takes over to bare its teeth at me, inhuman feral madness eclipsing my match’s face.
But thank the fucking universe. Baelfire is still in there.
