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One of those Warriors made the mistake of turning his focus to the girl in the bed. William grabbed him and cut his throat from ear to ear, then threw the bloody dagger at the portrait. This time, two short swords popped out from a bed poster.
Palming those hilts, William stabbed one, two, three Sent Ones. Bodies dropped. Blood spurted… everywhere.
All this destruction, and for what? Why had William taken Fox? “You—will—pay.” Bjorn spun mid-air and flared his wings as far as they could go, a bone hook protruding from the golden feathers.
The male moved quickly, faster than anyone Bjorn had fought before, but not fast enough. One hook sliced William’s cheek, while the other sent him flying back. He crashed against a wall.
One of the two female Sent Ones rushed at William. Or tried to. The silvery-haired woman lifted and aimed a gun. Boom! The female flopped to the floor.
Two other Sent Ones ran at William, who’d already climbed to his feet. He went low, raking his claws over one, then the other. They, too, flopped to the floor, where they writhed in agony.
Others approached the prince and received the same treatment.
“Go, William!” the woman on the bed called. “You’ve got this, baby!”
Seemingly empowered by her cheers, William threw an elbow at Bjorn, who’d thrown his body at the other man. “Tell me what you think I did, or I stop playing nice.”
“You tell me where she is!” Bjorn’s words lashed like a cat o’ nine tails.
Slash, parry. “She who?”
Slash, slash. “As if you do not know!”
“I don’t.” William flapped his smoky wings, jumped up and kicked out, nailing Bjorn in the nose. Cartilage snapped, and a stream of blood spurted. William didn’t fall to the floor, not right away, but remained in the air to twist and hurl a dagger between another Sent One’s eyes.
As the male collapsed, William opened a portal behind his body, ensuring the Sent One slipped through…and reappeared directly in front of William.
The only other female Warrior was in the process of swinging her sword at William, and she could not stop her momentum. Her sword slicked through the Sent One, his intestines spilling out.
Realizing what she’d done, she dropped her sword and gaped, horrified. William lobbed the man’s body at her, sending her crashing into the far wall.
“That’s what you get,” called the woman on the bed.
Bjorn was the last man standing. He and William circled each other in the air.
“I’m guessing the her in question is Fox the Executioner,” the male said.
Hearing her name spoken in such an irreverent tone only added fuel to the flames of Bjorn’s fury. “We saw you stab and grab her.” Bjorn swung a dagger, then another, William blocking, then parrying.
“Not me.” Swing. Parry. “I haven’t stabbed a woman. Not today, anyway.”
They plowed into furniture, overturning side tables and chairs. Vases shattered, glass shards flying.
Bjorn scowled and grated, “Do you hope to blame Axel, since you look so much alike?”
“No doubt it was Lucifer, who shape-shifted to look like me,” William grated right back. “The same way he shape-shifted into Axel to attack me.”
“You lie!”
“Often. But think, you fool. All Sent Ones have the ability to taste lies. What do you taste right now?”
He tasted a truth, which didn’t mean he tasted the truth. But even still, Bjorn halted and lowered his daggers. What if Lucifer had taken Fox? Then I waste precious time here. Time that Lucifer could use to do what he did best: rape and torture.
The urge to vomit returned. Lucifer showed no mercy; he maimed and murdered with abandon. Age, gender and species never mattered to him.
Gazing at the carnage wrought in this room, Bjorn withered inside. When he caught the white-haired girl’s eye, he withered further. She remained at the edge of the bed, now dressed in a T-shirt, glaring murder at him.
“Tell me everything,” William snapped, lowering to the floor and yanking on a pair of leathers so forcefully, he ripped the waistband.
Drowning in foreboding, urgency, and panic, but needing their help, he admitted, “I’d done it. I’d captured her. Fox was my prisoner.” Pain coated his words. “She ran from me. You—Lucifer appeared, eviscerated Bjorn and vanished with her.”
William scrubbed a hand over his face, looking fatigued. “Apologize to Sunny and vow not to kill Fox, and I’ll consider helping you get Fox back.”
The need to get to Fox grew, overtaking him completely. Frantic, he blurted, “I apologize for frightening you, for damaging your bedroom, and threatening your man.”
She narrowed her eyes. “How dare you!? I was never frightened.”
Bjorn pivoted back to William and said, “I cannot vow that I won’t kill Fox. The order for her death came from Clerici himself. But. I will vow not to kill her without first coming to speak with you.” Or at all. He ground his teeth. “Agreed?”
The male appeared to be fighting to maintain his stern expression and might have even bitten his tongue to stop a laugh. Why laugh? “Very well. Agreed.”
“Tell me where Lucifer keeps—” Bjorn’s ears twitched. He heard a commotion outside, the noise drifting through a crack in the window. He thought he detected Fox’s name. Heart galloping, he rushed over to peer outside. One look, and horror crept icy fingers down his spine. A bloody, wounded Fox was crawling into camp, cursing anyone who attempted to aid her. “Never mind.”
Bjorn hurried from the bedroom, determined to reach his woman.
Chapter Nineteen
More frantic by the second, Bjorn shoved his way through a growing crowd of Sent Ones. As if the Most High reached down from the heavens and swept the soldiers apart, they parted like the Red Sea, a path to Fox opening up.
The moment Bjorn spotted her, more shock, rage and horror stabbed him, slashing his insides. His body shook uncontrollably. She still hadn’t rallied the strength to stand; she could only crawl. One of her eyes was swollen shut, blood smeared over the rest of her face. The left side of her body had been scorched, including her hair. Every individual strand looked as if the end had been used as a candlewick.
“Fox!” It was then, in that moment, that the truth hit him so forcefully he nearly toppled over. It was a moment of total clarity unlike any he’d had before. He didn’t just care for this woman, and he had been fighting his feelings, allowing fear to dictate his actions. But fear lied and destroyed. Fear never led anyone in the right direction. Fear made you a fool and brutally murdered hope. The same reason he’d lashed out at her earlier. A mistake he could never undo. All he could do? Fight to make it right. Because he loved her with every fiber of his being.
My woman. Mine! The truly startling revelation? He loved Fox the Executioner more than he loved his own life, and he would happily die for her if necessary.
No longer would he let fear take the wheel. No longer would he worry about going all-in and losing her. No more wallowing in betrayal and pain. No more resisting change. Whether or not he loved and lost Fox, he would face betrayal and pain because life was pain. And why fight change, when the life you currently lived consisted of misery rather than happiness? Bjorn needed change.
He needed Fox.
Cannot imagine a future without her. The words infiltrated his mind, all passion and fire, before solidifying in his bones. I. Love. Her. He loved her and craved her nearness in ways he’d never loved or craved another. She didn’t just make him smile and laugh; she didn’t just blow his mind with every kiss and caress; she didn’t just encourage and help him. No, she anchored him in the here and now, rendering the horrors of the past insignificant. An abundance of blessings awaited him—because of her.
