My throat feels tight. I've seen a lot of horrible shit in my life, but watching Knight claw himself apart, so desperate to protect Cosima yet so fuckinglost?—
That might haunt me for the rest of my life.
"Put him in the dungeon," Plague orders, then pauses, his expression softening slightly as he watches Knight's limp form being dragged away. "But make it secure. Twice as secure as you think necessary. And… don't hurt him."
"Put him somewheresafe. Not a fucking dungeon," Geo demands, applying pressure to his forearm with his other hand where he took the edge of an electric spear for Knight. He and Nikolai both intervened when Knight went down. I don't know if Geo would have if I hadn't tried, and he hadn't shoved me aside and barreled him himself.
Plague's eyes narrow. "He just killed multiple Surhiiran guards?—"
"Because he thought we were torturing his mate!" I cut in, my voice raw. "He needs medical attention, not adungeon. Did you see what he did to himself when that mask came off? He carved himself open with his own hand trying to hide from us."
Everyone stares at me.
I don't care.
"He's terrified and bleeding everywhere," I continue. "And you want to throw him in a dungeon like he's some kind of?—"
"Raven." Nikolai's hand on my shoulder, grounding me.
I'm still shaking. Can't get the image out of my head—the extent of the damage, the raw exposure of what's left of Knight's face.
Plague holds up a hand. "If Knight escapes a standard cell and goes hunting for her, he could go on a killing spree before we realize he's loose. The royal guards will see athreat, not a traumatized victim."
"Then sedate him properly and get him medical care," I snap. "He'spack. He didn't understand what was happening. He saw the white coats, the equipment, Cosima sedated on that table, and he just..."
Plague nods slowly, a flicker of sympathy softening his features. "I know. This place must have reminded him of the lab in Vrissia. Vytoskyk. Where they..." He trails off, glancing at the destroyed chrome equipment, the blood spatters. He collects himself. "My packmate—Wraith—was tortured in the same facility. I was there when we freed Knight. I know exactly what they did to him, which is why the reinforced dungeon is the only option. He's impossibly strong. I've fought him myself. When he wakes, he won't understand where he is. Or that Cosima is safe."
Plague's voice is distant. Still cold, but there's a sadness bleeding into it that wasn't there before, his jaw tight as he watches the remaining guards haul Knight's massive body through the doorway.
More guards and medics file into the room, carefully stepping around pools of blood as they begin tending to the injured and removing bodies.
What if Knight was right to react the way he did?
What if he could sense something we couldn't?
He found her across so many years and even more miles. Their bond exists on a level I don't fully understand.
What if heknew?—
"You're making a mistake!"
Azarel's snarl cuts through the room as he comes out of the haze of sedation just enough to start fighting again.
He's restrained, three guards holding him while a fourth approaches with yet another sedative, but the prince fights like a cornered wolf, kicking out with a boot and sending a guard crashing into the sparking, smoking machines. Blood streams from his split lip where Geo's fist connected at some point during the fight, and there's pure murder in those pale blue eyes.
"If you hurt her," Azarel grits out, his eyes locked on his brother as he strains against the guards' grip with enough force that one of them staggers. "I will have vengeance in kind. Starting with your omega. And then your other mate. I will burn this palace and every last inch of this land to ash ifanythinghappens to her."
The room feels even colder all of a sudden.
Plague's expression doesn't change, but deadly ice flickers behind his gaze. A frigid edge that makes the family resemblanceeven more clear. He turns to the guards with the kind of calm that precedes violence.
"Do the same with my brother," he says in a cold tone that could freeze hell over. "The dungeon. And don't be gentle with him."
But something is wrong. Something is very, verywrong if Azarel and Knight are on the same page.
"Wait—" I start forward, but Geo's huge hand clamps on my shoulder, holding me back.
"This is between them," he mutters.
