Bael’s steps faltered when he saw Nix’s bleeding body. The incubus took one breath and spoke in a grave tone, “I promised you all that if she died, I would kill all of you.”
“She has a pulse,” Thierry stated in a rush as he motioned for Persius to move closer to them. “It’s…it’s weak, but a pegasus shifter’s blood and feathers are rumored to possess healing properties, right?” Thierry looked to Persius, desperate. “Is it true? Can you—”
Persius flexed his shoulders, and the most magnificent pair of pure white wings shot out of his back.
Thierry gaped as the pegasus shifter grabbed his right wing and violentlyyankeda handful of his feathers from the sensitive membrane.
“Damn,” Ryker grunted.
Because pulling feathers out like that was more painful than plucking an eyelash. The mere sensitivity of the area beneath a winged shifter’s feathers was…
Persius knelt beside Thierry and threw some of the feathers at him. “Quickly. Place them on any injury you see.”
Thierry worked quickly, splaying the feathers over her bleeding wounds and darkening bruises. He marveled at the golden sheen of each white feather.
Pegasus shifters, much like phoenix shifters, were known to be favored by the gods. They were known as the winged shifters of the heavens, gifted with the ability to fly so high that they could enter the golden gates where the gods lived.
Persius closed his eyes and spoke in ancient Greek. He called to the gods to heal his mate.
Thierry watched in silent horror. Because gargoyles were not capable of such…light. Such good. The gods never favored gargoyles.
I do not deserve her.
“All of this…is my fault,” Thierry said.
“Glad our mate’s death could teach you a new lesson, professor,” Bael bit out.
“She willNOT DIE,” Persius bellowed between his ancient Greek chanting.
Thierry stroked Nix’s hair and dipped his head forward in shame.
“You really had to lock her up,” Bael continued darkly. “Thought it was better to hide her and her powers away rather than end those who would do her harm. Then, you left her—”
“Iknow!” Thierry clamored. “She told me that if I left her in the cage, she would never forgive me. I thought—I was trying to help her, to make a potion that would—”
“Whole lot of good that did her,” Bael said as he dusted off his pockets and pulled out his blade. “I don’t know which will make me feel better: making you bleed or watching you turn to stone without her.”
“Stop,” Ryker warned the men as he sensed the incubus’s desire for violence. “She will be okay.” The unspoken “She has to be” rang loud and clear.
“If she isn’t—” Bael started.
“Then, I will fly as high as my wings will allow and retract them,” Thierry promised.
Even Bael’s nothing-can-impress-me eyebrows lifted at that.
The feathers pressing to Nix’s body began to glimmer with gold light as if droplets of pure, liquified sunshine leaked from them.
“It’s doing something,” Bael murmured softly.
“Thank the gods.”
“Nix,” Thierry whispered. “Please wake up.”
CHAPTER 30
“Hello, Phoenix,” a melodic, feminine voice greeted Nix.
Oh gods. Head aching, Nix rubbed her eyes and leaned up on her elbows.
