No. Not again. I failed them. All of them.
Farren howled, the mournful sound echoing off the remaining walls. Regulus’s coat was burning now, and he rocked back and forth as he screamed in agony.
In that moment, the moon rose, and every muscle in Farren’s lithe, lupine body screamed for her mate. She had to get to him. Had to touch him, save him, just benearhim. But as she strained against the collar and leash, a needle pierced her pelt, and she froze..
“Da’.” The single, hoarse word from Eli silenced Farren in an instant. Her mate was staring just over her shoulder. At the man holding the leash. And the needle. She tried to turn her head and caught a glimpse of Paulo Ruiz. His eyes—as Regulus had said—were empty. Almost. Was that...a tear shining in one of them? His thumb hovered just above the syringe plunger.
“He has not been your father in twenty years, Eliziam,” Glenna said, her voice taunting and almost...gleeful. “He is ours now. As you soon will be. The syringe contains a concentrated dose of wolfsbane. Even in miniscule amounts, it can kill a human or a werewolf, but in that volume? Your wolf’s heart will stop seconds after I command my little puppet to depress the plunger. Blair? Remove Eliziam’s shirt.”
Farren cared little that she might be about to die. If she could save Eli, her entire life would have meaning.
A slight woman—barely more than a girl—appeared just in front of Eli.
What the hell? Had she...teleported? That would explain how they got Mara out of my house so easily.
Blair pulled an athame from a leather holster at her side and sliced down the front of Eli’s Henley. With precise cuts, she removed the entire garment then trailed the tip of the blade down the center of Eli’s chest.
“No. You will not put another mark on my mate!”She doubted anyone but Tierney could understand her, and her howls earned her a hard jerk on the chain, but Farren had to find a way to stop these bastards from hurting him.
The girl started chanting, and Eli dropped his arms, his eyes wide and panic flooding the green depths. His mouth opened and closed several times, like he was desperate to tell Farrensomething,but no sound escaped his throat.
Flashing a brief smile in Farren’s direction, Blair took hold of Eli’s right hand, raised the athame high over her head, and then plunged it through his palm.
“I do not think you will be performing another casting for some time,” Glenna said with a chuckle. “Blair, the other one, please.”
Eli’s father hissed behind Farren, and the tip of the syringe popped free from her pelt. He stroked Farren’s fur with a single finger, and sorrow flowed through the touch, along with something else. The barest hint of hope mixed with desperation.
The young practitioner dropped Eli’s right hand and reached for his left. Farren whined like she couldn’t stand to watch and turned to look at Paulo. His eyes flicked to his side, then hers. Right where Fergus’s scar would forever remind her how close she came to death.
The mark was a sigil of control. One the practitioners used to keep their victims in line.
Paulo gave Farren a tiny nod. If she failed, she’d not only lose her life, but Eli’s as well. And she doubted he’deverforgive her for what she was about to do. The moon was full. A bite now…she’d either kill Paulo or…
I have no choice.
For the briefest of seconds, she held her mate’s gaze. Then, just as Blair took his left hand, Farren snarled and sank her jaws into Paulo’s side.
* * *
Eli
Pain overrode all rational thought. The fingers of his right hand spasmed uncontrollably, and the kid—Blair, he thought—had a hold of his left now. The symbols branded across his skin flared to life, and he swore they wereyellingat him. Begging him to fight. But without the use of his voice or his hands, he was powerless.
Across the room, his mate was about to die athis father’s hand.Paulo didn’t recognize him, hadn’t even reacted when Eli had called him “da’.” The knife to his throat burned, and he was losing blood too quickly. Had Isla nicked his carotid? No. He’d be dead already?
Farren snarled, and the leash flew from his father’s hand as she whirled around and tore a chunk of flesh from Paulo’s side. He screamed, blood soaking into his gray tunic, and sank to his knees.
His mate hadkilledhis father. No. Not his father. The Thirteen’s slave. Farren bounded towards him, the leash trailing behind her as she tackled Blair and sent the young girl arse over tea kettle. But Isla still had the knife pressed to Eli’s throat.
Until Regulus, whose coat was still smoldering, rose in one smooth motion. He lifted his left hand, and Eli sucked in a sharp breath. Gold—melted gold—wound around his burned fingers like a delicate lattice. His sharp fangs glistened in the sun, but he didn’t seem to care. He was on Isla in under two seconds, wrenching the knife from her grasp and ripping out her throat.
Tierney kicked the practitioner holding him, and he and Farren headed straight for Glenna. She flung a spell at them, but Tierney jumped in front of Farren. Blue sparks singed his fur, and he hit the ground, his legs twitching and his eyes closed.
Farren clamped down on Glenna’s arm with her massive jaws and ripped her hand clean off. The practitioner screamed and pulled a blade from her pocket, but Farren dodged the strike easily.
Eli, on his knees now, called on the power of earth. The entire building started to shake, and he let his rage take over. He’d end every single fucking one of the practitioners for taking his parents from him.
The Trinity Knot over his heart throbbed, and he focused all of his power on his uninjured left hand. If he could become spirit—or call it somehow—he could destroy every practitioner in this castle without breaking a sweat.
