In a blur, Reagan followed them, four large paws jumping high until he clashed into the backs of Zarren and the shorterone, who slammed face-first into the ground. He turned his brown-furred neck until the line of sharp teeth bit the bald one on his shoulder. The man screamed in pain while the beast brought him to the ground, raging on that shoulder as the sound of a cracking bone rippled through the air.
Strained breaths and cries echoed beneath the animal’s weight as it released the shoulder and circled the fallen figures.
Reagan locked eyes with the one who had been atop me seconds ago. With a sudden lunge, he sank sharp teeth into Zarren’s thigh, drawing a loud cry from him that tore through the rain-soaked air.
The man convulsed, his mouth wide open in agony, as though he were on fire. Snarls and guttural growls echoed louder.
The sight of blood, his anguished cries, all sent a wave of nausea to my stomach, my gaze quickly averting to the ground.
There, glinting in the dim light, was my location relic. I retrieved it, clutching it tightly.
All three men remained on the ground as the beast stepped back, his fiery eyes locked onto mine, his growl fading.
“Reagan . . .” I whispered.
But he turned, lumbering toward a shuttered shop, forcing his way inside, the sound of splintering wood echoing. I glanced back at the mages, still down and wheezing. They whimpered weakly, their gazes flicking toward the darkened shop. The youngest sat between the others, casting terrified glances at both the shop and his companions.
None of them dared to rise. I didn’t think Zarren could.
From inside came the sounds of tumbling objects, glass breaking, and furniture being overturned.
It took only a few moments before Reagan appeared, stepping quickly into the street. He no longer moved on four legs but walked upright, a black cloak falling over his bare chest and dark pants.
His eyes swept over me in quick, precise glances, pausing briefly on the side of my face. He turned his head back to the mages, muttering something low under his breath, too quiet for me to catch.
My eyes widened as he stopped in front of me, extending a hand to help me to my feet. I gasped low as I noticed his pupils. Dilated, with only thin rings of blue left around them.
Gently, he adjusted the sleeve of my dress, covering my shoulder again, before taking a second cloak and draping it over me. His hands moved slowly, but his nostrils flared.
Furious.He looked furious. Before I could speak, he cupped my cheek.
“Which one did this?” he asked, his voice low as he gestured to the side of my face, where there was likely a cut or a bruise.
I drew the cloak tighter around me. “I didn’t know the way back. Can we go?”
“We will,” he replied, his voice calm but deceptively sharp, like a blade hidden in silk. “Just tell me who hurt you.”
My gaze flicked toward Zarren. The man glared at us, his face twisted with disgust. Or pain.
Reagan’s eyes followed my line of sight, and I watched as he nodded. A subtle, closed-mouth grin spread across his face, charged with bitter anticipation.
“And what about that one?” he asked, his tone unnervingly cold as he nodded toward the short one, who stared at the ground.
“He didn’t do anything.”
“I’ll be quick,” he said, turning toward the men.
He stopped in front of Zarren, whose sneer twisted his face as he muttered, “Oh, I get it. Didn’t know the pet had an owner. Bet she’s keeping your bed warm enough, seeing as the Lord of Mountheim’s come sniffing after her.”
My teeth ground. He had to be completely insane if he already knew who stood before him and kept talking.
In the next second, Reagan’s fist struck Zarren’s face with brutal force, sending the man sprawling backward.
“You will apologise to her now,” Reagan commanded, his voice a frigid blade of menace. “Or I’ll have a great deal of fun bleeding you.”
My eyes darted back to him. My legs went numb.
Zarren’s expression curled into a painful grimace. “I didn’t take you for a human-lover, milord.”
