Chapter 41 — Ethan #2
“He’s guarding the circle!” Conan shouts. He’s somehow still on his feet, giving a wide berth, his eyes tracking Holden’s movements with sudden clarity.
I see it now. Every dodge, every counterattack, every blast of magic...they all serve to keep the salt hexagon at Holden’s back. He needs to protect it.
Conan doesn’t hesitate.
He launches himself at Holden’s blind side, not aiming for him but for the space between him and the ritual geometry. If he can break the symmetry, disrupt the formation. . .
Holden roars.
The sound is inhuman. Furious. He whips around with terrifying speed and catches Conan with a concentrated blast that hits him like a freight train.
Conan doesn’t fly backward. He just...crumples. Drops straight down like his strings were cut.
He doesn’t move.
Doesn’t groan.
Doesn’t crack a joke about how that’s gonna leave a mark.
Nothing.
“Conan?” Akila reaches him first, sliding to her knees on the frost-slicked stone. Her hands float above his chest, shaking so much she can’t quite bring herself to make contact. “Conan, get up! Get up!”
Silence.
I’ve never heard panic in Akila’s voice like that before.
“Fall back!” Rhiannon commands. “Behind those pillars, now!”
Branson scoops Conan’s limp form into his arms like he weighs nothing and sprints for a set of massive stone pillars near the temple’s entrance. Akila covers their retreat, blade raised, eyes never leaving Holden.
I scramble after them, my boots slipping on the frost-slicked stone. Xander grabs my arm when I stumble, hauling me the last few feet into cover.
We collapse behind the pillars, breathing hard. Branson lays Conan down with surprising gentleness, and Akila immediately presses her fingers to his throat.
“Pulse is weak.” She swallows hard. “But he’s alive.”
The relief is short-lived.
Rhiannon crouches beside me, blood dripping from a gash above her eye. Her gaze meets mine.
If we can’t stop him... She doesn’t finish the thought. She doesn’t need to.
The Elders will come. They’ll all die. War will follow.
My hand finds the crystal on my chest. The crystal Haron gave me. Holden didn’t want me to have it. There has to be a reason.
You think that can stop him? Rhiannon is watching me clutch the pendant.
Maybe. My fingers tighten around the smooth stone. But I don’t know how.
“Join me, Commander.” Holden’s words echo through the temple. “Give me the charm, and I’ll grant you what you’ve always wanted.”
Rhiannon’s pulse spikes.
“Your Alpha made you Commander so you’d give up on being Luna.” Each word lands like a calculated strike.
Xander’s head snaps toward Rhiannon. “He’s trying to rattle you.”
“He chose her and expected you to smile and salute,” Holden calls out. “Serve me, and you won’t ever be second to anyone again. You’ll be the only voice that matters.”
Don’t listen to him. But even as I think it, I feel an old wound reopening in Rhiannon’s chest. Her pain isn’t just about the loss of her former would-be mate, it’s about the loss of her chance to fulfill her highest potential.
“And you, Truth Seer,” Holden continues. “With the Lycans, you’ll always be the weak one that your Commander has to protect.” His smile becomes cruelly knowing. “I can give you the power to keep her safe. Real power. Not just fool’s courage pretending to be enough.”
I could stay. Protect her. Actually make a difference. The thought surfaces before I can stop it.
“No archaic pack laws to bind you,” Holden goes on. “No Alpha King’s blessing needed. No bureaucracy telling you who you’re allowed to love. Stay with me, and no one will ever question what you are to each other.”
“What is he talking about?” Xander eyes us.
My hand tightens on the crystal.
Behind us, Conan’s breathing rattles. Shallow. Weak.
“He doesn’t look good,” Akila says. “We need to do something.”
Holden gestures toward us. A thread of white light drifts from Holden’s outstretched hand toward Conan. His breathing steadies. Color returns to his cheeks.
“I can heal him completely. Right now.” Holden’s eyes gleam. “All you have to do is say yes.”
Silence.
For one terrible moment, I want to.
I look at Rhiannon. She looks at me.
“No,” we say together.
The healing light fades. Conan’s breathing steadies, but he doesn’t wake.
Holden withdraws his hand, expression shifting from benevolent to bored. “A shame. I thought you might be reasonable.”
I press my back against the pillar, mind racing. We can’t overpower him. Can’t outmaneuver him individually. Every attack we’ve each tried has failed.
But we haven’t tried fighting as one.
“We need to do this together,” I say to Rhiannon. “I mean, all of us together.”
“What are you talking about?” she asks.
“Earlier, I heard Branson’s thoughts. . .and then Xander’s. Through you.”
Her brow furrows. “That’s impossible. You’re not Lycan.”
“I know what I heard.” I keep my voice low, conscious of Holden waiting beyond our cover. “It was fragmented, like catching pieces of a radio signal. But it was there.”
Rhiannon’s eyes search my face. She’s turning the idea over, testing it against everything she knows about pack-bonds and human limitations.
“If I can hear echoes,” I continue, “maybe I can do more. Patch me in. Like a three-way call, with you as the conduit.”
“Ethan, I’ve never heard of a non-Lycan being able to connect to a pack-bond, let alone a human doing it.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what it would do to you or to the rest of us.”
“We’re losing. Conan’s down. Holden’s got more power than all of you combined.” I meet her gaze steadily despite the fear knotting in my gut. “We need an edge. This might be it.”