At least they would die together.
Lips moved against her neck, followed by two sharp pokes.
Pleasure coursed through the bond, wrapping her in a glowing, golden haze. She could feel her vital essence leaving her body and entering Marcus, restoring his strength and healing the damage he’d sustained.
She brought her fingers to his shoulder and felt firm, cold skin. “Thank God.”
He kissed her forehead. “I would never leave you.”
She buried her face in his shirt, even though it was crusty and smelled like sweat. Nothing else mattered except that they were together.
“Don’t let that monster confuse you,” Vincent said. “You belong to me, Winifred.”
“There is only one monster in this room,” Winifred said. “And it’s not my husband.”
Marcus’s amusement filtered through the bond, but when he looked at Vincent, his voice was full of menace.
“It’s time for you to leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere without her,” Vincent said.
She felt Marcus’s white-hot anger. He would kill anyone who came between them, and she didn’t care. So muchhad changed since they’d met.
He gently positioned her against the wall. She had only enough strength to remain sitting, propped up by the stiff fabric of her gown and her corset. It was distinctly odd watching passively as Marcus faced off against a man she’d once considered family.
Vincent’s body expanded with a sickening crunch. Silver fur erupted from his skin. He fell onto his hands and knees and growled like a beast.
“This is your last chance,” Marcus said. “If you do not leave now, you will be removed from this castle in pieces.” He flicked his arm, and an enormous ruby blade materialized. It was like nothing she’d ever seen, somehow liquid and solid at the same time.
“I really do not want to kill you,” Marcus said. “I know what was done to you was not your choice.”
Vincent opened his jaws, bearing razor-sharp teeth.
The golden thread in Winifred’s mind pulsed so strongly that it reverberated throughout her entire body.
Marcus lurched. He was so fast that in the time it took for Winifred to blink, he had gone from standing in front of her to across the room with his hand buried in Vincent’s fur and the shimmering blade pressed against her cousin’s neck. Then there was a wet tearing sound, and the beast toppled over… without his head.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Marcus carried Winifredin his arms through the empty halls. She was too silent, yet he could feel her on several levels. The moisture on her warm skin. Her faintly soapy scent. The pressure of his own arms wrapped around her. If he paid too much attention, the looping of sensation between them made him dizzy.
“I can’t…” She shook her head. “It’s too much.”
Her distress buzzed against his mind, but as he welcomed her physical touch, he welcomed the sound of her thoughts and the feel of her emotions. It was like coming home after being marooned in a sea of despair. The bond between them had filled cracks in his heart he hadn’t even realized had been there. Even after mere minutes, he knew he would not survive losing the connection.
They reached her room, and he heard shouting from elsewhere in the castle. It could have been his staff, or Mr. Sorrow. He’d lost track of the hunter with the arrival of the wolf.
He juggled Winifred in his arms, opened her door, then deposited her on the bed. She’d done everything she could. Now it was his turn to rescue his brothers and Kitty. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the faint sparks of their presence. They were close. On the grounds. Likely engaged with other hunters in combat.
He reached the top of the entry staircase. Two people in black cloaks argued in the entryway. Winifred’s uncle, who had raced out of the receiving room when his nephew had attacked, shook his head as Winifred’s cousin Felicity Sorrow gestured with her arms, obviouslymaking an impassioned plea.
“Leave,” Marcus said, pitching his voice so it carried.
The figures sprang apart before facing him, shoulder to shoulder. The old man wasn’t a problem. But he was not keen on taking the life of a woman, especially one who was friends with Winifred.
“Miss Sorrow,” he said.
She straightened. “Do not use my name, vampire! Where is Vincent? What have you done with my brother?”
