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“Kendall, she’s dangerous,” I begin.
My sister looks back at me and winks. Like, actually winks. “She doesn’t win,” she tosses over her shoulder and waltzes forward to meet Maricha like it’s already done.
I stare at Kendall, confused—and impressed. Whatever happened to my sister while I was away, I think I like it.
Klyn stops at the open cell door.
He bares his teeth, growling, and Maricha answers his challenge by stepping forward to meet him. Black wings unfurl from her shoulders. They are razor-sharp—weapons all on their own. She uses them as such, stabbing one of them toward the wolf, but he darts out of reach, snapping his teeth at her. Maricha’s movements are light, her feet barely touching the ground as she meets every one of Klyn’s blows with a block of her own. She’s not winded. She’s barely even watching him as she moves left and right to counter him.
Despite Kendall’s assurances, my insides twist.
Legion groans, and I look over to find him studying me. The bond is still quiet, but in his eyes, I see all I need to know. Maricha’s magic is draining him. Even if Maricha doesn’t win, I’m not sure how to stop what she’s done to my mate.
Forgetting the danger, I rush forward, slipping past the fight and into the cell. Dropping down beside Legion, I grip his face in my hands until we’re eye to eye. “Don’t stop fighting,” I tell him. “That’s an order.”
He snarls, but it’s weak.
My eyes land on the hilt of the knife protruding from his shoulder. A whisper of voices sound in my ear. I can’t understand the words, but I reach for the knife anyway.
“Stop!” Maricha’s scream is unhinged. Desperate.
I look up in time to see her swipe the wolf with a sharpened wing. The wolf howls, and a bloody wound opens along his flank.
“Shit,” Kendall says and steps in front of him. But Maricha is no longer focused on the wolf.
She rushes toward me. I have no idea why she’s suddenly so unhinged about me touching her knife—so that’s exactly what I do.
The moment my hand closes around the hilt, the dark magic slams into me. Whispers fill my ears. Shadows slither through my vision. The earth trembles around me, and I grip Legion with my free hand to keep from falling over. With all the strength I can muster, I yank the knife free from Legion’s body.
Maricha falls to her knees, wailing.
The second knife she held clatters to the ground.
Legion shifts beside me, black scales sliding over his skin, replacing his flesh. I watch as the knife wound begins to pulse, the dark poison spilling out of him onto the ground. The symbol carved into his chest starts to heal and close.
Relieved, I look down at the weapon I hold. The knife is warm in my hands, coaxing me to never let it go.
My mind is a whirring of dark thoughts.
Death. Destruction. Domination.
I look up and see the second knife lying still on the stone floor. Without thought, I lift my hand, and the blade responds, sailing through the air and landing in my palm.
My fingers curl around the hilt possessively.
Power whooshes through me.
I look at Maricha, noting the way she’s fallen to her knees. It was never her power that I needed to fear. It was the power of these blades. Rising to my feet, I step over my mate to where the dark demon cowers on the stone.
“Those don’t belong to you,” she accuses.
Her eyes aren’t on me, though. They’re locked on the blades.
“You will never hurt me or my mate again.” The knives seem to echo my words, urging me to use them. I raise them both overhead, tips pointed straight at the monster who caused all this pain.
Before I can act, a dragon darts out of the cell, its teeth closing over Maricha’s thigh. She screams, and the teeth bear down, crunching through bone. Maricha’s wings stab at the dragon, but they bounce harmlessly off Legions’ scales. Another crunch and Maricha’s screams fall silent.
Her eyes remain open, her breathing shallow, as she stares up at her son.
