Devour the Dark (Devourer #2)

29. Wendy

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

WENDY

Everything happens all at once.

Firecracker is a blurred ball of fur tearing through the conservatory. Then he launches himself at the Myth, claws out.

The Myth shrieks as Firecracker latches on her face, scraping at flesh, hissing as he does.

“Get. Off. Of. Me!” The Myth yanks the cat from her face and tosses Firecracker aside.

He lands on his feet, thank god, and disappears behind a dead potted plant.

The Myth huffs out, a dozen scratches welling on her face.

Just in time for a blade to sail through the air and thunk into her eye.

Asha bounds into the room.

Relief floods through me as fighting breaks out.

But Roc…

He’s hunched forward on all fours. He’s shifting. Or caught somewhere between man and monster.

He’s shaking like he’s chilled to the bone.

The man at my side whips his arm back, slicing open my throat.

Blood wets my skin.

I grip at it instantly, terrified of the depth, the damage.

I cry out, blood rushing through my fingers.

And then it’s done. The pain gone.

They either don’t know, or forgot that I have Myth Maker power, that I can heal.

Asha is by my side in an instant. She leaps on the guard, a blade in each hand. She drives them down into his shoulders. He howls so loudly it makes my ears ring.

He slams back against the stone, Asha on top of him, and then she’s driving the blades again into his heart.

“Your Majesty,” she says, a little breathless, a little jovial, like we’ve just met up for a walk in the park.

“You have perfect timing,” I tell her.

She smiles, then, “Duck.”

I hit the ground. She throws a dagger. Another guard down. Then she’s running, retrieving blades, killing again.

Beside me, James has his hook buried to the hilt inside the gut of the woman who was guarding him.

Across the room, Roc stands up.

He’s stop shifting, the shape of him solid and real, except his eyes are different. Violet, not green.

He stalks toward us.

“James,” I say.

“I see it,” he says.

We stand shoulder to shoulder, braced.

“I think you have something that belongs to me,” Roc says, but his voice is hollow and raspy, not his own. He comes to a stop in front of James, a knife in his hand. “I would like it back.”

“Roc,” I say. “Fight this. Fight her .”

He slowly turns his attention to me.

My heart thumps wildly in my ears. I’ve always known he’s dangerous, that he could turn on me at any moment, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt so breakable as I do right now. Because all of him is gone, any part of him that might have loved me is buried beneath the witch. Where Roc showed me care and love, the witch will show me none.

“He gave in,” the witch says through his lips. “He doesn’t want all of the messiness that comes with whatever this is. You begged and pleaded with him to declare his love and did he?”

I swallow. “I know he loves us.”

“Does he?”

“Yes!”

“If he did, wouldn’t he have fought harder?”

Tears blur my vision.

“Come back to us,” I plead. “Please.”

James steps between us, using his body as a shield.

“There is nothing you can say to change his mind,” the witch says through Roc’s mouth.

I grit my teeth, hold my breath.

“You’re wrong,” James argues. “Do you remember, Crocodile? ‘ Just six words .’”

Roc inhales.

“But I don’t need six. I just need three.”

I don’t know what this is, but it seems to shake Roc awake. A flicker of emotion. A glint of consciousness.

I know this is something I wasn’t a part of. I know it came before me. But I don’t care. I will no longer hide, I will no longer shrink away from the discomfort of loving someone. And I sure as hell won’t give in to jealousy.

I stand beside James and squeeze his hand, urging him on.

James takes a breath. “We,” he says. “Love. You .”

Roc blinks and a single tear escapes the corner of his eye.

“I love you too,” he says, and then, “ Run .”