But I knew who he was really working with, and it wasn’t the Premier, and I wasn’t going back.
No. I was getting out.
His grip guided me through the wrecked office, past broken furniture and scorched carpets.
Ronan blocked another blow from Victor, fire flaring, fists smashing into super powered flesh. Each hit sent shockwaves across the office, shaking me to my bones.
We reached the hallway, smoke and brimstone stinging my eyes. The vampire’s hold on me was sure, leading me away, keeping me low and away from debris, and I dared a glance back at the fight still raging, Ronan and Victor colliding like unstoppable forces.
“What’s your name?” I asked, my voice nearly a whisper.
He paused for a moment, and I wondered if I’d get a real answer from him.
“Draven,” he finally replied. “Colleague of your mate’s. Well, former colleague now, apparently. Guess his old man finally found a way to drag him back to Ignareth.”
Oh, Hecara, I hadn’t even processed that information yet, but everything Ronan had told me about how much he hated his family and his hometown… It all made sense now. He was an Oniguro, one of the major crime families of the demon city-state.
But he had gone back, all because of me.
When I whimpered at the realization that Ronan had sacrificed the life he’d built for himself just to rescue me, Draven looked back, his face scrunching in discomfort.
“It’s not your fault, sorry. You’re his mate. He would have done anything for you. Just like you did everything you could to save his stupid ass, right?”
I nodded, tears blurring my vision.
His lips flattened, and after checking to make sure we were alone, he pulled me into a hug and started up an alpha purr to calm me.
And oh, did it. I knew Ronan’s would be better, especially tuned for me, but Draven’s was practically lyrical.
Once the distress melted from my body, he stopped, hands on my shoulders and pushing me back so he could inspect my face. “Good?”
“Good. Thank you.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, and I had a feeling that was as close to a smile as he ever got.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here. The twins are waiting for us in the car, and then we’ll rendezvous with—”
“This isn’t the way to the Premier’s rooms.”
A shadow, dark and cold, fell over us.
Vorthain. Now he was stepping in.
He was silent as he moved, a living ghost floating above the carpet. Draven pulled me behind him. “I still don’t know what you are, but it’s too late. Ronan will take care of Corvane, and Sage will go home with him. This fucked up experiment is over.”
“Over?” He came closer, his power nearly smothering. “Oh no, I’ve invested far too much time into this omega. This is only the beginning.”
The hood to his robe slipped back, like he had simply decided the disguise was no longer necessary.
His face wasn’t as monstrous as his teeth, but that somehow made it worse.
His skin looked thinned, as though something underneath it pressed outward, stretching it just enough to remind me it wasn’t normal. His eyes were pitch black, the absence of sclera glaring in their wrongness, like holes punched straight through the world.
Every instinct I had screamed at once.
This wasn’t a vampire.
It wasn’t a demon, or a seraph, witch, merfolk, werewolf or elf. Not anything I had ever felt in a ritual circle, spellwork, or whispered warning.
