Chapter 17 #3
I snarl, a sound of pure Alpha rage. Grabbing Idril by the waist, I try to push her behind me.
But the silver’s already working through my system, making my limbs heavy and my movements sluggish.
Varenthrall’s expensive shoes tap a cruel staccato beat across the bloody marble as he approaches. Each step is deliberate. Unhurried. Precise. Like he knows he’s won and is simply waiting for us to catch up.
“Look at the two of you,” he sneers, lip curling in disgust. “Falling all over each other like animals in heat.”
He cocks his head to the side, surveying our position with cruel amusement. “And here I am, with a single silver bullet left. All I have to decide now… is which of you gets to redecorate my foyer with your insides.”
Everything in me wants to respond to the taunt—to lunge across the space separating us and rip his throat out with my fangs.
My body strains, muscles shaking with the effort of holding back, knowing I’m not in a position to strike.
Idril’s response shocks both of us.
It starts soft—a snarl that’s less predator and more angry kitten. Then, it changes, growing into something deeper. More intense. A resonance pulled from somewhere primal—somewhere I didn’t know Omegas could reach.
Her lips peel back from her teeth. Her body, smeared in blood like war paint, starts to shake. The growl she releases is as feral as any Alpha’s roar.
I watch in awe as she stands. Slowly, like every part of her hurts. Her legs tremble so violently, I worry they’ll give out. Her hands—still covered in my blood—clench into fists at her sides.
Every instinct she has is begging her to stay down. Stay safe. Submit. I know, because I can fucking feel it.
But Fates…she stands anyway.
Feet planted wide for balance, her chin lifts and defiance gleams in her eyes.
In this moment, she’s not a fragile Omega cowering before her father in terror.
She’s an angel of death, come to drag us to the fiery depths of eternal hell.
If given the choice, I’d follow her. Willingly. Happily. Straight into damnation and the flames beyond.
She moves, taking a step toward her father. Toward danger. Her voice is full of resolve when she snarls, “You—”
“Will—”
She takes another threatening step forward.
“Not—”
Her entire body vibrates with unrestrained fury.
“Have—”
I’m in awe. She’s magnificent. A fucking warrior
“Him.”
Each word strikes like the blow of a hammer. It’s a promise. A threat.
A Fatesdamned declaration of war.
She’s poised to attack—an Omega protecting her Mate—and I’m both amazed and terrified by her bravery.
It’s humbling—especially because I’m fucking useless right now.
Sprawled on the floor, silver burning through my limbs, unable to do anything except pray to the Fates that my brothers get here before this all goes to hell.
Despite my pride at watching my Mate stand between her father and my death, I know she can’t take him on single-handedly. We’re seriously outnumbered, and I’m getting weaker by the second.
It will be hours before the silver works through my system, but until then, I’m sluggish. My movements are clumsy. My brain is foggy.
And as much as I believe in her—this fierce, incredible girl—an abused, malnourished five-foot Omega simply can not fight an Alpha on her own.
“Idril,” I beg, because it’s all I can do. “Please… run.”
She glances over her shoulder, eyes blazing with untapped fury. Her gaze softens when it meets mine. She smiles, but it’s sad. Regretful. Like she’s already mourning what she knows happens next.
“No. I cannot.”
Then, with more fervor, she whips back around to face her father. Her voice rises in challenge, steady and sure.
“I will not.”
She takes a trembling step forward, and I see it. The moment she makes her choice.
“I’ll die first,” she swears, lifting her chin higher. “He’s mine, and you cannot have him.”
Fuck. I’m drowning in her. Awed by her spirit. Terrified by her stubborn will. This brave, reckless, impossible female.
My female.
Varenthrall frowns, studying her like he’s never actually seen the female standing in front of him. Their gazes clash, neither willing to be the first to look away. It’s a battle of wills between Father and Daughter that feels like it goes on forever.
Of course, Varenthrall can’t bear to play fair. He growls in irritation. His arm strikes out like a whip, so fast the movement is a blur.
His fist connects with her face. The thud of flesh meeting flesh may as well be another gunshot. The second he makes contact I shout, bellowing in helpless fury. Time slows to a crawl as Idril’s limp, fragile body flies through the room—a doll tossed aside by a careless toddler.
Her skull meets the floor with a sickening crunch. Even over my wordless screams I can hear the unnatural sound of her head cracking against marble. The sound it makes—I’m going to hear that fucking sound in my nightmares for centuries. Bile surges up my throat, putting an end to my screams.
Idril crumples into a lifeless heap. She’s a broken doll. Thrown away. Discarded. Left to rot where she lands.
I feel the exact moment she loses consciousness through the Bond. The thread flickers, a candle flame guttering in the wind.
No!
No, no, no—
Terror, like I’ve never known, implodes through my chest. The sound that rips out of me this time isn’t human. It isn’t vampire. It isn’t Alpha. It’s ancient, primordial, and pissed. An explosion of grief and rage that shakes the chandelier overhead.
I struggle to rise—to go to her—but my leg collapses beneath me.
I roar—agony and grief colliding like thunder—and slam my fists against the marble so hard it cracks.
Fine. Fucking fine. If I can’t walk to her, I’ll fucking crawl.
Inch by agonizing inch, I drag myself toward my Mate.
I claw at the blood-slicked marble with fingers that leave deep grooves in the stone.
My leg drags uselessly behind me, nothing but dead weight I can’t control.
The pain from my bullet wound sears through my veins in pulses of white-hot agony, making my stomach churn.
It doesn’t matter. The pain, the distance, none of it matters. All that matters is her.
My hand slips in a slick pool of still-warm blood. I crash face-first into the floor, splitting my chin. All it does is piss me off.
Keep going. Get to her, you useless piece of shit. Don’t stop. Do NOT stop.
I keep my eyes trained on Idril, refusing to look away for even a moment. The rise and fall of her chest is shallow, but that’s where I focus. On the barely-there movements that prove she’s alive. I watch each new breath with feral intensity, mentally willing the next one to follow.
If I don’t—if I look anywhere other than those barely-there movements—I’ll have to face the fact that she’s otherwise motionless.
Blood trickles steadily from the wound in her head, mocking me with each precious drop of her essence as it blooms around her like the petals of a rose.
It spreads across the white marble like a taunt, a bright shimmering pool of perfect crimson.
With every inch I drag my weak, sluggish limbs, my rage burns hotter. I still refuse to look away from my Mate, not even to look Varenthrall in the eyes when my fury reaches a boiling point and the threats begin to pour from my lips.
“I will end your life,” I spit, each word dripping with venom. “And when my brothers arrive, they’ll rip you into pieces. They’ll skin you alive, you sack of shit. Wear your useless hide as a fucking coat.”
Varenthrall ignores me. Hands clasped behind his back, he calmly strolls toward his unconscious daughter. His movements are careless. Unbothered. Satisfied by the way this evening played out.
I snarl again, continuing my pathetic crawl across the foyer.
Every inch is fucking agony, my lungs burn with every breath and my muscles weigh a thousand pounds.
The silver’s working fast. Incapacitating me at a faster rate than normal.
I feel like a day-old puppy trying to attack a fucking Rottweiler.
I won’t stop, though. I refuse to, no matter how agonizing the pain becomes.
Varenthrall crouches beside Idril. With a grunt of determination that has red-tinged spittle flying from my mouth I push harder. I need to move faster. He’s too close. Too close to my Omega.
He raises a hand and I snap. I shout, scream, threaten him in every language I know. I’d do anything to keep him from touching her again. I’d give anything to save her from this monster.
Varnethrall ignores me. Softly—like he’s not a monster masquerading as a man—he reaches out and tucks a blood-streaked strand of hair behind Idril’s ear.
Her lashes flutter. She blinks. Frowns. Blinks again. Her gaze is glassy and unfocused, but the moment she registers her father looming over her like a specter of death her blue eyes sharpen and fill with fear.
“I told you, my dear.” His voice drips with condescension. “I did warn you that I’d discover who you were protecting.”
He smiles. Chills sweep down my spine.
“I believe I promised you something else as well, did I not?”
I’m so focused on Idril that I nearly miss the sharp sting in my neck. Almost don’t see the Alpha standing over me, an empty syringe in his hand.
My limbs grow heavier, weighed down by something I can’t see or fight. The moment I realize what’s happening I shake myself furiously, trying to stop what’s already happening
Stay awake! Stay the fuck awake!
My vision blurs around the edges. Black spots flat across my vision but I still watch as Varenthrall leans closer to my Mate. His eyes are too bright, a mix of excitement and insanity. He looks like a man who finally has everything he could possibly want.
As my eyes slide shut and the world plunges into darkness, Varenthrall sneers at his daughter before issuing a final, ominous threat.
”I do believe that I promised to bleed you dry.”