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The wind pushed at his back, speeding his steps. He sensed Cain reaching for his mind, felt him pulling him closer with his desperate emotions.

His heart jolted at the first sight of the hall and his mind opened. He kicked in the door and heard Cain’s scream, “Brother!”

“Cain, I’m coming!”

He raced through the building, down a flight of unlit stairs, and along a dark, winding corridor. Cain’s screams filled the underground passage, calling him to hurry.

Adam turned the corner and slammed to a halt. Bishop Eleazar King blocked him. The Elder’s gaze dropped to the precious bundle in his arms.

“You don’t belong here.”

Adam bared his fangs. “I demand to see my brother!”

The Bishop shoved into his mind and Adam shoved back. “Your brother is locked in a holding cell for the safety of your mate.”

Adam looked at the man with wide eyes, his hand flicking the quilt off of Annalise’s face. “She needs her mate. I’ve failed.”

The Bishop’s lips parted, and Adam pushed past him, yelling for Cain and racing down the long corridor.

“Adam! I’m here!”

He slid to a stop, crawling with Annalise on his lap, as close as the bars would allow. “She’s not waking!”

Cain blinked up at him. Blood seeped from his eyes, a sign of impending death. His face was gaunt, and he looked as though he’d suffered several deaths since Adam last saw him.

Adam pulled away the quilt, exposing her pale features. Cain lifted an unsteady hand and touched her cold skin. Regret flashed in his eyes and Adam understood what needed to happen.

There was only one way to save her. He would be forever lost without her, but she would not be lost to the world.

“She’s yours,” he rasped.

Cain’s gaze clashed with his. The Bishop approached, a mask of uncertainty on his face. Adam nodded for him to unlock the bars.

“Bond with her,” he rasped, gently passing Annalise to his brother’s lap. “You must.”

“She’s already bonded,” the Bishop snapped. “You defile the sanctity of your calling—”

“We’re losing time!” Adam shouted. His eye’s pleaded with his brother. “Please.”

The Bishop’s voice hardened. “She’s your wife!”

They ignored him, their focus solely on Annalise. Cain pulled her swaddled form into his arms, his voice a battered rasp, “She’s his wife, but she’s my called mate. And she’ll die if I don’t save her.”

Adam put his body protectively between his brother and the Bishop. “Please...” He glanced at the male who held the highest authority in their order. “He speaks the truth, Eleazar. She was my salvation, and he is hers.”

The Bishop shook his head in defiant refusal. “I cannot allow this.”

“She’s with child.” Grace appeared at the end of the hall, her clothes drenched and muddied, her hair a wild mess. Her eyes met Adam’s and she nodded. “I felt the baby earlier today. She planned on telling you after the wedding.”

The Bishop sighed. “She should have transitioned hours ago. I’m afraid—”

“Then let them try!” Gracie shouted at the Bishop who stood twice her size.

The man’s jaw ticked as his eyes narrowed on her. “We will never speak of this to anyone.”

Gracie nodded and turned to Adam. He faced Cain. “Now.”

Cain tore open his wrist. Blood trailed down his arm as he pressed the opening to Annalise’s lips.

He cradled Anna’s head, sweeping her hair aside. Adam watched her flesh shift from white to pink and relief collided with regret.

His vision blurred as Cain’s grip tightened around her. Pulling her closer, his head lowered, and Adam flinched as his brother bit into her neck, emptying her of his blood and replacing it with his own.

His heart froze to a glacier of ice. Cain’s shoulders bunched as he moaned and fed off her vein.

A crushing ache formed in Adam’s chest. The chamber silenced, except for the slow sipping sounds of his brother stealing his soul.

Visions of Annalise flooded his mind. The first time he heard her laugh. Their first dream. The way her voice lilted when she sung. The feel of her in his arms the first time they danced. The first time they made love. The taste of her skin. The velvet touch of her body to his.

Each vision stabbed through him like a red-hot poker, leaving nothing but an empty hole in its wake. He released a shaky breath and willed himself to stand.

Cain lifted his head, his eyes dilated and his fangs red. His purr hummed in the silence.

Annalise lay motionless, her lips coated in his brother’s blood. No one spoke.

Their worry crippled him. Cain gently rocked her. Time suspended.

A scraping wheeze broke the silence as Annalise’s chest expanded. Grace gasped and Adam’s muscles locked with denial, shaking him to the bone.

Cain’s arms tightening around her. “She’s waking.”

“Impossible,” the Bishop hissed.

Her lashes fluttered and her finger’s twitched. Adam panted, each breath more shallow than the last. As Cain’s fingers tenderly brushed the side of her face, he felt the caress ripping away his soul.

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