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Drawing on my strength. My love. All her blood burning in my body. Keep me together. Keep me in one piece. At least until I can pull her out.

Though when will I know it’s time?

If she called for me, I couldn’t hear her. Her bond was so thin. Stretched to the point of fraying. I bit my lip, filling my mouth with blood. For her. Willing it to strengthen her. Reach her. Even through the distance separating us.

Let my blood call her back to us.

:What the fuck is that?: Mehen asked.

My eyes flew open, breaking my concentration. The surface of the pool spiked upward toward the ceiling, like reverse rain drops. Spikes. Razors. Sharp enough to slice my arms, though the veil still protected me.

Trying to hack her hair. Separate my grip on her.

“No fucking way,” I growled. “Over my dead body.”

The inky surface churned and bulged, changing shape. A giant face. My face. Mouth gaping open like it swallowed Shara. Gulping her down with an evil, maniacal laugh on my face.

“NO!” I heaved myself backward, trying to pull her up. Every muscle straining. Tearing. Didn’t matter. “YOU CAN’T FUCKING HAVE HER!”

Crushing weight loomed on top of me. Engulfing me with lion musk. The stone sphinx let out a roar that rocked the small cave. He unhinged his jaws, opening his mouth wide, and lunged his entire face down into the murky fluid. Grabbing hold of Shara. My arm. Everything.

Then he reared backward. Claws scrambling, screeching on the stone. The dragon dragged my leg, heaving himself backward, his front legs braced on either side of the tunnel for leverage. All of us. Pulling as hard as we could.

Black fluid bounced and swirled. Spikes and knives shifted to teeth and claws, trying to tear at us. Cut her free.

Learning, I realized. Because I felt the slice of those claws through the veil, where I hadn’t been able to feel the cuts before. Not that they could wound the rock troll. Or the stone sphinx.

Though my queen didn’t have such impenetrable hide.

Protect her. Please. Keep her safe.

Even Sekh slipped. His head dipped back down toward the roiling, tossing black pool. For one heart-rending moment, we hung over the edge. My face hovered. My ragged gasps of air dimpling the fluid.

Then blackness. Closed over my face.

I lay on my back. My head in her lap. Her hands played with my hair, but I couldn’t see her face. For a moment, I sagged with relief. She was safe. I must have pulled her free and then passed out.

But something wasn’t right. I hurt. All over. Inside. Not like broken bones or shredded muscle, not like I expected. This felt like acid boiled inside me. Knives scouring my intestines. Razors slicing me apart from the inside out. And then I heard it. That sound. Giggles. Wounding me.

Glee. High-pitched. Agony.

The sounds Tanza made. While she tortured me.

Guillaume stood over me, his blue eyes as grim as I’d ever seen, his Templar sword lightly resting on his shoulder. “You failed her.”

Shame choked me. Swallowed me whole. I must have let Shara go. Her hair. Slipped. Through my fingers. He should kill me. Take my head. Take my place at her back. Let another be her alpha. She would never trust me now…

“Let her go.”

No. Every cell in my body rejected those words.

I will never let her go.

I will never fail her.

I knew it. Inside my soul. Where her name was written. On my heart. For all time.

Shara fucking Isador. Owned me. Heart and soul. Every drop of blood in my body. Hers.