A growl forms in my throat, and I grind my teeth to hold it in.
Trusts me? A minute ago, she thought I was going to fucking kill her.
My mate is out of her ever-loving mind.
But that’s just fine. I’m still keeping her.
Her eyes close, and I take a breath, ready to show her everything.
Fuck, I hope she doesn’t hate me too much after this.
Four Years Prior
If Damien doesn’t stop using his face to block my sword, I’m going to make him run laps until sundown. At this rate, he’ll be dead long before he ever infiltrates the elite guards.
I need to talk to Morgana about her recruits.
Once again, my wooden blade connects with his jaw. “Keep your guard up!”
But the kid doesn’t hear me. He stares, wide-eyed at something over my shoulder.
Instantly, my power rises to the surface, ready to protect him as I turn to meet the threat. Instead, I find a familiar spirit, waving her arms at me in a panic.
Tension coils through my muscles. I know why she’s here.
“The prophesied one?” I confirm, discarding the wooden blade.
She frantically nods.
“Go, I’ll follow.” My power flares, betraying my calm tone. It hasn’t even been two decades since Clotho’s message came, alerting us that the girl was reborn. The mortal can’t be much older than a child. The thought that she’s already in danger leaves me seething.
The spirit’s energy signature leads me to a dark forest, somewhere in the Mortal Realm. A cold rain is starting, and I pause, trying to get my bearings.
There’s a muttering in the distance, and I stay silent as I follow it. Morgana made it clear that we can’t interfere unless the mortal’s life is in danger.
My steps are measured, until I smell it – blood. The scent sends acid burning through my veins, and I rush forward, forgetting to be quiet.
A branch snaps under my boot, just as I reach a small clearing. Shock stops me in my tracks.
She’s mostly hidden on the other side of the tree, but I’ve seen enough cruelty to know what was done to the mortal. A growl rips through my chest as I take in the blood and rain running down her body.
The mortal freezes.
Fuck – no interference, I remind myself, until I remember how delicate mortals are. She’s going to die out here if I don’t help her.
A muffled scream pierces the air, sending another rush of fear flooding through me. I’m behind her in an instant, looking for the threat. But before I can save her, the mortal falls to the ground.
How the fuck did she get free?
She’s scrambling out of her bindings, and I catch the awkward angle of her thumb.
Sonofabitch.
Guilt stabs at me. I should have moved faster; she didn’t need to suffer more. But as I watch her force herself up and scramble into the forest, I can’t help but feel a touch of pride.
This mortal is a fighter.
Accepting she isn’t in immediate need of my help, I start searching for any trace of who did this to her. But the rain has already erased any lingering smells.
