It was Brielle. I knew it in my blood and bones and marrow.
“It’s Bri. Can you make it the rest of the way?” I asked, already half running back to the front.
“Don’t go. Let the maidens handle it.”
“Something is wrong!” I shouted, my feet carrying me past without my consent. He’d already shifted Fi’s limp body over his shoulder and drawn his sword as he swore and began to run hell-for-leather through the stragglers between us and the castle.
I am the guarantee. The simple promise beat behind my eyelids with every step until I reached the front.
What I saw gutted me.
Kane was down.
Kane, son of Kosta, son of Konstantin, son of Kasmiro, ruler of the nine great packs, the strongest shifter in all the world, was down. Brielle was on her knees at his side, several maidens around them in a ring, weapons out.
His head was nearly severed from his body, and I couldn’t stop myself from bending over and retching my guts up when I saw the white bone of his spinal column.
I didn’t even wipe my mouth on my blood-soaked arm. I just ran up to Galyna. “What happened?”
“Fucking warlock somehow materializedrightbehind him with a blade as long as his forearm. It was less than a heartbeat, and the fucker had slit his throat so deep, he nearly decapitated him.”
“How is he alive?” I whispered, my horror seeping through as I watched Brielle rip his shirt from neck to hem and place the omega stone on his bare chest.
“I’m not sure he is,” Galyna admitted, grim sorrow drenching every word.
“She’s alive, so he’s alive,” I insisted, pushing my way into the circle and dropping to Brielle’s other side. “What can I do?”
“I need more power. My wolf can pull it, but it won’t feel good.”
I offered my hand without hesitation. “Take what you need.”
Her glassy, tear-filled eyes met mine for one brief second of gratitude. It was more than she had to spare. She grabbed my hand with her right and slapped her left hand directly over Kane’s destroyed neck.
I felt the drain within seconds. As if I’d drunk too much and stumbled out of a bar at midnight, that was how it started. Woozy, trippy, like everything around me was tilting to the side even though I hadn’t moved.
Determined, I just gripped Brielle’s hand harder, willing my strength to aid hers.
My wolf howled in my mind as the life began to drain from my limbs. She scratched and fought, but I was too far gone to move my numb lips.
My gaze sharpened as she forced her way forward, but still I kept my death grip on Brielle’s hand.
A broken hum lifted from my throat as I collapsed, and through my brain fog, it took a second to realize what it was.
The maiden’s death dirge. My cheek was pressed to the damp earth now, but I was so cold, I couldn’t feel it.
Valens.
His name was a prayer on my lips, but I didn’t have the strength left to utter it as my final rites.
Someone called my name as cold swallowed me up.
Chapter 60
Valens
Itore into the bunker with Fiona over my shoulder. It was graceless, as if she was a sack of potatoes, but it was the best I could do alone and still be able to swing my sword freely with my right hand.
I hadn’t made it a single step inside before someone saw me and screamed as if an enemy had broken into their sanctuary. But the scream drew more eyes, and in seconds, Leigh was elbowing her way to the front to help.
