With a condescending smirk, he flicks his wrist through the air, then disappears from my sight.
“Give him back to me now, you motherfucker!”
My scream falls on deaf ears, and my fist pounds against the barrier blocking me from where he just was. Unlike a moment ago, it’s now solid as stone.
It grows tired of my pointless assault and ricochets my ass back. Directly into a pair of strong arms that wrap around my waist.
Amick’s body shakes with a ferocity I’ve never felt from him before. It thumps against my back and wreaks havoc on my chest. Creed takes his sword from my clenched hand, and the tremors passing through him pulse up my arm. The Kyzen who stands at my side and latches his hand around my forearm still isn’t the Kyzen I know.
A glide of power breezes through the air, taking the new barrier with it and revealing an empty but bloody battlefield.
Even the bodies are gone.
“Mell! Get your damn hands off me. Mellcom!”
My body spins in Amick’s arms toward the shouts coming from Jeremiah. I track his frantic pacing as he slings Mara and Chasin away from him.
“Where the fuck is he?” he screams into the sky.
My attention continues to scan the bloodstained dirt until I find Gladian with the Valtrues—what’s left of the Valtrues—that protect the stronghold.
Mellcom isn’t with him.
“Shit.”
It’s not only Riven that’s gone.
Kir—he took Mellcom too.
My murmured curse isn’t so quiet after all. Jeremiah’s furious gaze whips to me, and he, Mara, and Chasin stomp the short distance between us.
“You.” Jeremiah growls, pointing his finger at me.
Creed, Kyzen, and Amick move to block me, but my low, harsh whisper halts them.
“Don’t. Let him say what he wants to say.”
“This is your fault. You charged through the fucking barrier like the crazy bitch you are.”
My nostrils twitch, and my fingernails bite into my palm. My power pulses in his direction, and I don’t stop it.
I let it flow free, wild, and rightfully pissed.
His face contorts in a mixture of confusion and something akin to heartbreak.
Crazy bitch…
My oh fucking my, the number of times he’s called me that.
I don’t know if I can count that high.
I remember the most memorable time, though. It was only a few months ago. He got his ass beat in training, and I chuckled. It pleased my throbbing heart to see him get back what he’d given me.
My mocking earned me a punishment I’ve desperately tried to ignore.
It’s hard to ignore in this moment because of the shame searing through my skin as I stare into his hate-filled eyes.
The moment we walked into the house that morning, he backhanded me so hard I thought my tooth had pierced through my lip.
