Izzy swallowed. This was the point of no return. If they got into that cage, they would be in a cage forever. Luka didn’t want to risk her, she understood that—she didn’t want to risk him either—but she could risk herself.
Dashiell was also sliding on the sand, and his attention was split between her and Luka. He pushed her forward with his lefthand, but his right hand had lifted for balance, and the blade was no longer pressed deep into her skin.
Yes.Scales flickered up her throat and onto her face, settling into a glittering armor as she extended her claws with a slow glide.Now.
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
Luka’s beastroared and twisted in his belly as Dashiell forced Izzy forward, stumbling toward the boat… and then she dug her heels in.
She’s going to do it.
Do what? He didn’t know, but he trusted his beast. He started to run before he even knew what he was running toward.
Everything happened slowly, as if they were stuck in resin. The sand shifted and slid beneath his feet. Scales solidified over his body, and his beast howled, but all he could see was Izabel.
She ducked away from Dashiell, spinning, her cloak flaring out behind her. The needle blade sliced up her throat, across her cheek, and into her hair as she threw herself away from him. She grunted as she turned, blood pouring down the side of her face, but she didn’t flinch. She faced Dashiell head-on.
Luka’s beast howled with her. Pain and terror poured from him; he already knew how this was going to go.
Dashiell was an excellent soldier. As Izzy spun, he danced behind her. She tried to duck, but he tangled his hand in her loose hair and dragged her to her knees. “Stop!” Dashiell bellowed.
Luka skidded to a frantic halt. How many more times could Izzy be cut before it was too many? His beast roared, and he desperately began ripping off armor. He needed his drake. Izzy needed the beast.
Dashiell braced, his feet spread wide, bracketing Izabel. He lifted his dagger, eyes locked on Luka. “If you start to shift, I will kill her!” His lip twitched into a sneer. “You might kill me, but you will still be too late.”
Izzy twisted her neck to look up at Dashiell despite the hand he’d fisted in her hair. She lifted one hand, fingers bent in the unmistakable broken sword. “Fuck you.”
And then Luka saw them. Talons. Beautiful, curved, and wickedly sharp.
God of Chaos. She has claws!
Dashiell laughed viciously. “I knew it!Twosets of talons. Do you have any idea what you’re worth? Gods, do they grow back? Can we harvest them forever?”
Luka roared, opening himself to the power beneath the mountain. It was so close. Heat and magic and something more. A sleeping awareness. Its call rushed through him in a torrent, impossibly potent. Every instinct in his body screamed, but he didn’t dare shift. If he was lost in the change, how would he help Izzy? What would Dashiell do to her in those few seconds? “Don’t hurt her! I’ll do anything!”
Izzy sagged into the sand. Her tears mingled with the blood on her face as she let her head drop.
Dashiell opened his mouth?—
And then Izzy exploded upward, arms sweeping out. She slashed at Dashiell’s inner thighs, ripping toward the vulnerable arteries.
Dashiell bellowed, his breeches sliced through, but she hadn’t cut deep enough. The traitor still stood. Dashiell lifted his knee like a born brawler and smashed his foot into Izzy’s back.She collapsed onto her hands and knees with a pained grunt, but she didn’t stay down. She spun around, pushing herself into a panting crouch, spewing curses.
Dashiell followed. He slid the dagger to his left hand and bunched the right into a fist, ready to deliver the blow that would knock her from the fight. He was so certain of success that he didn’t even bother to go for his sword.
Now was Luka’s chance. He hurled himself at Dashiell, flying through the air at his exposed side. But Dashiell had already launched himself at Izzy, and she had flung herself forward to meet him.
All three of them met with a violent crunch. Dashiell screamed as Izzy’s claws raked the inside of his arms, and then he screamed again as Luka’s claws pierced his side, all the way through his leather tunic and into the soft flesh below.
Luka roared and hauled Dashiell away from Izzy. He ducked his head and crashed into the underside of Dashiell’s chin with a ferocious head strike. He freed his claws before the sergeant could shake off the daze, picked him up, and threw him bodily across the sand and into one of the metal poles. Dashiell collapsed, bloodied and unconscious.
Luka took a step toward him, raising his clawed hands, ready to tear his throat out and finally end this threat, when he heard Izzy sigh, soft and sad.
He spun back toward her just as she crumpled slowly to her knees. Blood and dirt streaked her face, and one side was already swelling. Her right hand hung limp, claws still extended and mottled with gore. But worst of all, her left hand gripped Dashiell’s dagger where it was embedded in her side, just below her ribs.
Luka wanted to collapse onto the dirt with her. Panic like he had never known flooded him, and he stumbled over to her.Gods, what should he do? Whatcouldhe do? “Don’t—” His voice cracked. “Don’t pull it out.”
