“Here it is!” The guard ran over to Fitz, the bottle held aloft in triumph.
Fitz reached for it, but his hand dropped heavily onto the bed.
The guard sighed and popped the cork out of the bottle. “Open wide.” Then he pinched Fitz’s nose, waited until he had to open his mouth to breathe, and poured the contents down his throat.
Maximus didn’t notice the time shift, but he saw Wilde stumble. Saw him go down to one knee. “Finally tired of running?” Maximus taunted, jabbing the spear forward.
Wilde’s form flickered, but he only moved a few inches. The spear aimed for his heart pierced through his shoulder instead. He groaned and grabbed onto the shaft, wrapping his hand firmly around it. Blood trickled down his hand and dripped onto the polished black floor. He raised his bloody fingers, and they slid over each other in a slippery snap. Pain filled his voice as he panted, “Reset.”
Five Minutes Earlier
The Lord of Grimnight’s Throne Room
Maximus thrust the spear through empty air and was already whirling around to find where Wilde had disappeared to.
The mage knelt on the floor, cradling a wound in his shoulder as blood trickled down his arm. His unfocused black eyes looked somewhere over Maximus’ head.
Maximus approached him slowly this time. There was no blood on the spear, but he knew he’d made that wound. That it had persisted despite the magic fucking with time and with his head. “The best way to defeat an evil mage,” he said, positioning the spear in his hand, “is to kill them.”
The sharp tip of the spear found its mark, sliding into firm flesh.
One Minute Earlier
Fury flashed through Maximus’ heart, and he stormed across the room. No matter how many times it took, he would defeat the Lord of Grimnight once and for all.
Distantly, he registered the shouting outside the throne room, the pounding feet as someone ran toward him to interfere. He ignored it all and raised his spear, aiming for the mage’s heart.
Red hair flashed in his peripheral vision right before Trey threw himself in front of the wounded mage. Maximus’ eyes widened but he couldn’t stop the deadly thrust.
Time slowed to a stop.
Chapter Forty: Trey
Time Stopped
The Lord of Grimnight’s Throne Room
Trying to Save an Evil Mage
Magic thickened the air to a syrupy consistency that stuck to my skin and in my lungs. The sharp tip of Maximus’ spear—where did he even get that?—hovered a few inches away from me. I snatched the weapon out of his hand and tossed it across the room.
“Treasure,” Wilde’s voice was so weak it couldn’t even be called a whisper.
I crouched in front of him, checking him for injuries. The wound on his shoulder was deep and jagged, but I didn’t think it was the reason behind his bloodless skin.
Tears swam in his black eyes, and he panted, “I … I can’t.”
“It’s alright,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around him. “Let it go.”
When time restarted, it was like coming up for air after drowning. I sucked in great, greedy breaths as I held Wilde. I couldn’t tell which of us was trembling harder.
“Trey!” Maximus cried, hand reaching for me. “Get away from him! You don’t know who he is.”
“I know better than you do,” I snapped.
The minions had finally broken away from the crowd. Three tackled Maximus, pinning him to the ground. He struggled against them, bucking and throwing punches, but their numbers overpowered him.
“Someone free Delilah,” I ordered. No one moved, so I said, “The cat.” Still, they didn’t move until Wilde nodded permission.
