Sinadim.
Balkazar.
Renegade blinked. Uncomprehending when the prince was forced to the edge of the pit at the point of Balkazar’s claws.
When he fell.
Sinadim crashed into their prison with a snarl and a wet crunch. His ankle twisting at a funny angle before he thumped back. Skull cracking into Giaus’ knees.
It happened in an instant.
Dazed, choking on stolen breath, Sinadim lashed out. Blind and confused, his claws caught Renegade’s shin where it dangled over Giaus’ forearm.
He pulled.
Too fast for her to feel anything, he unzipped her skin from knee to toes. Three and a half mangled, jagged slashes.
A bloodcurdling snarl spattered over Giaus’ lips seconds before he sent a single well-placed kick into the prince’s ribs and launched him into the wall opposite.
“Fuck—” Sinadim wheezed, then pressed his back to the loose shale. Wide, mismatched eyes fell to the damage he’d left on Renegade’s flesh.
To the blood that spilled down her shin.
The little flaps of hanging skin.
His jaws snapped shut with an ivory clack. Face white, sallow and tinged with a shade of green that could be seen even in the murky gloom.
And without a word, the prince turned to face his end. Dragging his feet beneath him, Sinadim hauled himself up. Favoring one ankle as he clawed at the walls with only one arm—the other hanging loose and grotesque from a sagging joint. The prince flashed the white of his palm and let go a ragged breath, but that was all. Seemingly unable to form a single word, he said nothing at all.
Not a plea for mercy, or empty begging.
“You’ll see,” Balkazar called into the gloom from above. “Find it in the shadows, my prince. And we will rise, together…”
“You son of a”—Sinadim wheezed again, hacking up a gob of bloody spittle—“sperm garglingwhore.” A guttural snarl burst from Sinadim’s lips, but he didn’t dare to peel his eyes those that gleamed with feral madness.
Didn’t so much as utter an apology or a single meaningless platitude.
With a reedy thump, the lid to their prison was hefted into place, plunging them into the dark once more.
The reek of rutting, territorial male mixed with the metallic tang spilling over her toes. And with a shuddery wave of black, seething hatred, Giaus dropped her behind his back.
Claws flashing, he surged forward with a snarl, bent on claiming justice. A charging wall of naked, bunching muscle, his tail stood high. Arrogant. A bristling signal that horrific things were coming for Hadim’s son.
Injured, helpless but to brace, Sinadim grunted when they collided.
But Giaus waseverywhere.
A giant beside the prince, he held nothing back. His fists landed in a flurry, both males shuddered at impact upon impact. Giaus lost to a territorial rage, the damp air was laced with choking pheromones.
With fear and murder.
Blond hair bled to crimson, Sinadim unable to land a single punch. His only working hand pressed to Giaus’ sternum obliterated the careful kisses Renegade had placed there only moments before. Where his claws had sunk deep into that bronzed flesh.
But it wasn’t nearly enough to save himself.
A plaintive, anguished cry was torn from Sinadim’s lips. Crushed on a grunt before it could do more than reach across the prison—but reach it did.
Staggering, slipping on blood and slime, Renegade lurched toward that sound. Dizzy from fever and dehydration, drunk on Anhur fury, she swayed. Too short to worry about swinging elbows, she pressed closer. Tried to swallow a mouthful of dry ash, she approached from behind.
