Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
MIKO
Ismoothed Orion’s cheek with the back of my hand as a bright red light flared, Lance cackling as the vampire grunted.
The luster in the fae’s green eyes was fading too fast. The glitter dimming.
“Don’t go,” I pleaded, ignoring the sounds around me. “Please don’t go.”
Ashy death spread across his complexion.
“Don’t leave me…”
There had to be something to help him. A blade in the guts didn’t have to be fatal. But a blade dripping with blood magic?
“Please…”
“He escaped!” the vampire cried. “I had him. I had him!”
The room reeked of fresh blood, the light some contingency spell for Lance to escape.
Prick.
He’d die for this.
Messily.
Don’t die… I prayed to the fae. Please don’t die…
You can join him if you stop Dawn… another inner voice added.
God. This was all so fucked.
“Where is he?” a voice demanded from behind me—one not belonging to anyone I knew in this room.
Boots stomped around into my view. Black with a copper trim.
Strange boots.
I lifted my head to meet the stern face of a beautiful fae man, his hair golden and curly, his skin a vibrant light brown, eyes amber, dressed all in black.
He looked too clean for this world, a fencing sword sheathed at his hip.
What the hell?
“Excuse me,” he said, “but I’m the only one here to help him.” His tone screamed pompous.
My inner wolf hackles rose. “Who are you?”
“Basil Tristan Angelwood. And if you want Orion to live, you must move aside.”
“Don’t touch him,” I warned.
He rolled his eyes. “I can heal him. I have the power, you don’t. If you want him to die in your arms, then I would seriously have your head examined. Don’t make me move you.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Charming. Move. Now. We’re done with this.”
Orion’s eyes were closed, his breathing shallow. I could barely hear his heartbeat.
“Fine,” I said.
“Lay him down,” the fae ordered.
I carefully laid my mate on the floorboards, my heart wrapped in constricting barbed wire.
If he dies…
Basil lay down beside Orion, throwing an arm and leg across him, wrapped his hand around the dagger’s handle, pressed his lips to his cheek and closed his eyes.
A soft hum filled the room, a glow on the fae’s lips as if he had a lightbulb in his mouth.
I watched, hands clenched into fists, terror rife within me, chill after chill licking up my spine.
Basil withdrew the dagger, dropping it on the floor but kept his mouth on Orion, his limbs not moving.
Orion’s lips parted, releasing a long breath. Red-tinged condensation spilled out, dissipating into thin air. The skin on his stomach knit back together, his eyes fluttering open.
Basil removed his lips, getting back on his feet. “There.”
Orion blinked up at him. “Basil?”
“In the flesh.” The fae offered him his hand, helping him to his feet.
“What are you doing here?”
I couldn’t move, only stare, frozen in place by revelations about Dawn and almost losing Orion to Lance’s knife. I didn’t know what to think, how to feel, what to do next. So much hit me in this cramped room, my life upturned. Every part of me was shutting down, drowning in numbness and silence.
Good. If I were numb, I wouldn’t have to think about my dad, about Trev, about finally knowing a way to end Dawn.
Thinking hurt.
Thinking cut too deeply.
Thinking meant moving into the next stage and facing its consequences.
I wasn’t ready to face that reality yet.