The sword in his possession, Blaéz flashed across the basement, the blade winging down. Finnén tried to gain his balance and hastily lurched to the side—his blood-curdling roar filling the basement. Blood gushed from his shoulder as he stumbled back, his arm hanging limply from its socket. He slipped on the gore and collapsed to the blood-soaked floor.
Darci stared in shock, her breath frozen in her lungs at the horror transpiring.
The air above them flickered, and spun like a black cloud. The Guardians pivoted, swords drawn as Blaéz stood over his brother and plunged the Mating Sword toward Finnén’s heart.
“No—”A flare of power crackled like lightning from an agitated cyclone, thrusting Blaéz several feet away and stopping the deathblow. The Morrigan took corporeal form, energy still sparking off her, her long, dark green cloak swaying about her ankles.
He pivoted, his chest heaving, the lethal sword dripping with his brother’s blood. His eyes cold, expression detached.
Darci felt no sympathy for Finnén. He was an utter bastard, but still…she inhaled harshly. Had the goddess arrived a few seconds later, he would have been dead.
The Morrigan’s face paled at the gory sight before her. She flicked off her hood, revealing unbound, ebony hair. Her flat, blue eyes shifted from Blaéz to Finnén, who lay on the cemented floor in a bloodied heap, groaning as if he were dying.
A nerve pulsed in her jaw. “Get. Up.”
The power in her words wrapped around Darci, urging her to obey, but Nora’s steady grip kept her from disgracing herself.
Finnén lurched to his feet, cradling his bloody, dangling left arm, and scowled, despite his badly beaten and swollen face.
“I cautioned you,” The Morrigan said, her voice low and all the more deadly for it, “about your anger towards your brother just moments ago. Even though you know why I gave him the life I did as a child, you blatantly disregarded my orders. Yes, they were a decree.” Her expression grew remote. “If I could bind your brother’s abilities as a babe and give him away, believe me when I say I will do far worse to stop you both from killing each other. Your powers are hereby bound—”
“You cannot do that!”
“—for a century,andyou will serve your penance in Tartarus.”
“No!”He flashed—or tried to. A flick of her hand, and The Morrigan had him immobilized. He thrashed with his uninjured arm, trying to break free of her hold, his beaten face darkening with fury.
“Resist, and your abilities will be permanently revoked.” At her promise, Finnén growled and cradled his injured arm. Finally, his head lowered, and his shoulders hunched in defeat as if all the fight had seeped out of him. The Morrigan glanced at Blaéz. “Is this why you summoned me earlier to some parking lot and then disappeared?”
“Do you really think I’m going to let this go?” The bruises marring his cheekbone and jaw were already fading, but his eyes were blue chips of ice. “He abducted my mate, threatened her. He fucking touched her!”
Oh, Blaéz.Darci pressed a hand to her chest at the stark pain in his voice, her heart aching.Hastily, she mind-linked with him, wanting to reassure him, but the static energy continued to block her.
“It’s over,” the goddess said quietly. “Finnén will have a century to consider the error of his ways.”
“And you imagine that will stop him when he traded a blood-promise with a demon to trap and kill me?”
The Morrigan’s eyes narrowed.
“We wouldn’t have let that happen,” Týr’s cold voice cut through the heightened tension, surprising Darci, considering he was more laid-back than all the Guardians. “We were a little late trying to get through the damn spell surrounding this place. But there’s no way we were going to let Blaéz deal with this ordeal alone. He’s our brother, and that piece of shit…”—he nodded at Finnén—“would have been dead by now if we weren’t delayed.”
Silently, the goddess eyed Týr and Aethan flanking Blaéz. And, as if finally grasping who his true family was, she inclined her head at him. “Be at peace,a mhac—”
Blaéz swung away and flung the sword, the thing embedding with a twang in the opposite wall. His expression set in resolute lines, he closed the small distance between him and his brother.
“You want to know why her?” Anger vibrated in his low tone.
Finnén lifted his head. With his badly injured face and swollen eyes, it was hard to decipher his expression.
“Because she did what no one else ever did. She loved me unconditionally when I couldn’t—despite knowing the truth about me.Shegave up her life for me. I will lay down mine for her. She is my life. Andthatis something you’ll never, ever understand, being the egotistical prick you are.”
Finnén looked away. The Morrigan hesitated, her features tense, her gaze dark as she stared at her younger son. Then her expression smoothed back into an even mask, and in a silvery-blue shimmer, she, Finnén, and the Mating Sword disappeared.
His words still ringing in her ears, Darci blinked away the tears in her eyes and sprinted to Blaéz. And stumbled to a halt in front of him.
This close, she finally saw the rips in his black sweater, the slash on the front from the deadly blade, the material gleaming wet with blood. Despite his fading facial bruises, his skin appeared as if stretched too tight over the bones of his lean face. His arms hung loosely at his side, but his eyes burned neon blue as if still gripped by rage.
“Blaéz?” she whispered.
