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But I couldn’t stab him until I rolled over—and as I rolled off, intending to roll straight to my feet and put that blade to his throat, he rolled as well… and lunged straight for Grace.

We were ten feet away, and he was on all fours, but he scrabbled forward, and he’d touch her before I could catch him.

Without thought, the blade left my hand, hanging in the air in a horrifying slow-motion spiral toward the man who threatened to take my mate.

Never Leave

~ VOSKI ~

The blade flashed in the moonlight, before abruptly halting, quivering, right at the base of Breckon’s neck.

The arrogant prick staggered, clawed at his throat, choked a strange, gargling sound, then pitched into the dirt, one hand clawing back, dislodging his hair, slicing his fingers on the inch of blade that hadn’t buried itself in his flesh, the other hand extended toward Grace.

But he was finished.

I knew even before I could form the thought.

His body trembled and twitched, those strange, strangled cries seeping from his punctured throat. And then he slumped.

“Grace!” I leaped over him, pushing through the broken bushes, doing my best not to inhale—only to find Grace, slumped against ropes at her waist and chest, tying her to a thick tree, her eyes as wide and round as dinner plates and strange smears painted all over her face and throat.

She wheezed, eyes wild. And as I broke into view, instead of relief, she screamed and recoiled, terrified at the sight of me.

I rushed to her, already murmuring. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. You’re safe, beautiful. It’s me. Listen—”

But she scrabbled, and screamed, and fought.

“I won’t hurt you, Grace. I swear it. I was…” But my air ran out, and I didn’t dare inhale until I had her away from those flowers.

I snarled, praying for mercy, as I fought with the knotted rope. Finally, when it released, and her knees gave, I grabbed Grace’s flailing arm and threw her over my shoulders, carrying her up and out of that little copse, running her past Breckon’s body still sprawled, face-down in the dirt, then off, as far as I could manage before I had to inhale—a deep, sucking breath.

I staggered to a halt and leaned down, to set her on her feet. But her legs had no strength, and she slid to her ass in the dirt, scrambling like a child, screaming, trying to crawl away from me.

For a moment I was at a loss, and reached for Kham, only to be reminded I couldn’t link with him. I cursed and leaped for her, grabbing her hands that were clawed into the dirt to give her purchase, and pulled her around, holding her when she struggled, and pulling her close.

“Grace… Grace, it’s me. You’re safe… Grace… please.”

Her struggles were weakening—she was weak. But she didn’t stop crying, spluttering, and when I pulled back to meet her eyes again and try to get through to her, even though she blinked several times, her eyes remained glazed.

Why didn’t the effect of the flowers wear off? She was out of their vicinity now, and I was unaffected.

Still holding her wrists in one hand so she couldn’t claw me as she tried to, I stroked her cheek with the other and leaned in, resting my forehead on hers.

“Grace…” I whispered. “Just breathe… listen…”

The world lurched. Spun. As if God suddenly tipped the earth under my feet.

I snapped my head up and tried to find my balance, looking around—had someone struck me? But there was nothing. No one else in the clearing except Breckon’s unmoving body.

Yet, I was suddenly nauseous, and when I looked up at the moon, intending to call the dragons down, the moon seemed to flip and ripple in the sky.

What was wrong with me?

Sweat prickled. I wiped my brow, still fighting to keep Grace from fleeing me.

But when I dropped my hand, some of whatever had been smeared on her forehead was on the back of my hand—and her robe suddenly seemed ready to rise from her body and twist in the air to come for me.

Shit.