He lay on the ice, staring up at his father, his lungs refusing to work as Alex yanked him into a sitting position. “Breathe, Briggs!”
He wanted to, he really did, but he couldn’t get his fucking lungs to cooperate. He stared desperately at his dad, who leaned forward and pressed his warm forehead against Briggs’s cold one.
“Take a breath, son. Just one breath,” he said, his voice calm and steady.
Briggs sucked in a gasping, whooping breath of air, his seized lungs working overtime to pull oxygen into his body as he coughed and gasped, leaning against the solid warmth of his father.
“Good boy,” his father said, rubbing his back. “That’s my boy. You’re all right.”
“Cece,” Briggs gasped. “My mate needs me.”
He clutched at his father, and Alex heaved him to his feet. Pain shot up his leg, and he studied the deep stab wound in his upper thigh, as Alex growled deep in his chest, sniffing at the air.
“Now there’s fucking two of you,” Alistair said as he stalked toward them. “I guess that’s what happens when you go to fucking Alaska. Chest deep in polar bears.”
He stood in the snow beside the river, his cloak fluttering in the wind as he raised his hands, and the blue light intensified. “I suspect your friend here doesn’t have a protection spell on him. Is that right, shifter?”
“Get behind me, Dad,” Briggs said, pushing weakly at his father’s body.
His father ignored him, positioning himself in front of Briggs before shifting to his polar bear. He stood on his hind feet and snarled at Alistair.
The warlock laughed. “He’s your father? Fucking brilliant. I’m going to enjoy this.”
Before he could cast the spell, a thick tree branch slammed into him, sending him sliding across the frozen river. Relief swept through Briggs as his father shifted to his human form and threw his arm around Briggs’s waist. He searched for Cece, the relief dying sharply when he saw how dim her light was as she turned back to the blond witch.
“I need to get to her,” he said.
“I don’t think you can help her, son,” his dad said. “Not with the magic they’re doing.”
“You’re wrong,” he said. “I’m the only one who can -”
“Down!” his father shouted before pushing Briggs to the snowy ground. Blue light lit up the air above them, and they both sat up to see Alistair, blood trickling from his mouth and nose, striding across the frozen river toward them.
“Fuck me,” his father said as his body swelled. “Stay behind me, Briggs.”
Before he could shift, a blast of red light came from behind them and struck Alistair in the chest. It knocked him off his feet, and he slid across the ice before scrambling to his feet.
Cece’s grandfather walked past Briggs and Alex without looking at them as Alistair crossed the frozen river and climbed the bank to glare at his father. “What are you doing here, Dad?”
“What am I doing here?” Werner said in disbelief. “Alistair, what the hell are you doing? She’s your niece. Cecelia is your blood.”
“She’s a goddamn half-breed and the reason Andrew is dead!” Alistair shouted.
“No, she isn’t,” Werner said. “Your brother died in a car accident. She had nothing to do with it.”
“You fucking fool,” Alistair said. “You honestly think that’s how he died, don’t you?”
Werner stiffened. “Alistair, your mother wouldn’t -”
“She would, and she did. We did, Dad. We didn’t mean to, I swear it was an accident, but Andrew wouldn’t listen to reason. He loved that half-breed’s mother. When Mom realized she was pregnant, she demanded that he leave her, and Andrew laughed at her. He laughed and said she was crazy.”
“Oh, Alistair,” Werner said.
“It was that bitch’s mother’s fault,” Alistair said. “She seduced Andrew and used dark magic to convince him he was in love with her. She wanted to take him away from us, Dad. We didn’t have a choice. He said he would never leave the mother of his child. Killing her was the only way.”
“You killed your brother!” Werner shouted. “You killed Andrew!”
“It was an accident!” Alistair screamed. “None of this would have happened if that bitch hadn’t gotten pregnant. Andrew is dead because of your precious fucking granddaughter.”
