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It’s hard to breathe. “Do you remember your garden? One year, you guarded over your pumpkins, hell-bent on having bigger pumpkins than Mrs. Olivia’s. Everyone thought you were crazy, but I took turns watching them with you because I was sure that old bat would come by and break them the first chance she got.”
His gaze meets mine. “A-Asha?”
I grasp his cheek and run my thumb across the marred surface of his skin. “It’s me. We’ve come here to free you and bring you back home.”
It hits him. I see it. His face crumbles, and his eyes fill with tears.
We embrace. Tears flow freely. I fit my arms around his skinny frame with ease. He’s malnourished, weak, but alive. My brother is alive!
“Now,” I say, making sure he’s looking at me. “Go. Run up the path. We have an SUV along the side of the road. Hide in there until we’re done searching for other survivors and dealing with this bastard.”
His expression is grim. “There are no other survivors.”
My gut turns. “Are you sure?”
He nods. “There’s only me. And you now.”
I blink away tears. “Okay, then the plan only changes a little. You need to get out of here and–”
Simon looks at me like I’m mad. “I’m not going to run while you protect me.”
“Simon–”
“Asha, you’re my sister.” His voice sounds stronger. “There’s nothing out there for me. There’s only you. We’re all that’s left.”
“Other pack members survived–”
“I’m not going anywhere.” And he sounds so sure, so much like my older brother that I just want to hug and squeeze him forever.
Except I don’t deserve it. “But I left you when you needed me…I ran away and left you.”
He smiles, even though the smile is weary. “No, you didn’t. You were always here with me. I never saw you die, so my hope that you survived kept me going in my darkest moments.”
My eyes burn. “I don’t deserve you.” The world doesn’t deserve him.
His eyes glisten. “Yes, you do.”
But our reunion’s cut short by a curious sound, like a gunshot heard through water. It barely registers before I’m thrown to the ground, ears ringing, skin warm with the tingling burn of magic. The Blood Mage.
I roll onto my shoulder and see him. In the doorway, illuminated by the eerie light of the power source, stands a hefty Blood Mage. Dark hair. Dark eyes. A huge frame. He looks like the stuff of nightmares, and his hands have already begun charging his next attack.
I don’t know if I can defeat him. But I don’t have to.
Three wolves tackle the mage, sparing me a killing blow for the second time in a night as his magic explodes against the wall behind me. The mage curses, struggling to attack again, but they’re everywhere. Furry wolves with sharp teeth and claws capable of killing, but probably not this man.
We need to get my brother to safety and deal with this asshole.
I rush to my brother’s side, seated against the wall as he tries plucking his hands from the cuffs. “I can’t use my magic with these damn things on,” he says.
“Hold on,” I tell him. “Let me finish the job.” My hands charge with so much magic they become practically translucent. We both marvel at the sight, how we can see the bones glowing inside. Then I grip the metal of his cuffs and melt them down until they drip off his wrists. I repeat the process with his ankle fetters.
“Let’s kill this fucker,” he says, leveling a vicious stare on the Blood Mage.
I want to tell him that he shouldn’t. That he’s weak. That he needs to run. But he’s already launched into action, weak, unsteady, but determined.
Simon was always determined.
My mates dodge his magic attacks in their wolf form, then leap forward to nip at him, but it’s just a stalling tactic. They can’t keep this going for long.
