My fingers tingle, and a small fire burns in the middle of my forehead. Gabriel’s wide eyes meet mine, and he stops struggling for a moment as several emotions flicker through his gaze.
The anger, fear, and frustration are easy to understand. After all, I disobeyed his orders. There’s something else there, too, but it’s gone before I can identify it.
Hedran turns his head towards me, still pressing his forearm against Gabriel’s throat, and he looks me over. His perusal makes me feel dirty, and I resist the urge to draw my arms around myself and cower.
“There you are,” Hedran says. “I knew you’d be hiding around here somewhere.”
My fingers tremble around the dagger. The weapon feels so insignificant in the face of this awful man.
“Let him go,” I say as forcefully as I can manage. The tremor in my hands isn’t helping my cause.
“Or what?” the other Hunter sneers, looking at me as if I’m nothing more than an annoyance. This isn’t the first time I’ve been looked at like that, but something about this man makes it feel worse than normal. “You’re nothing but a frightened little gods-blessed.”
Malice shines in his eyes, and it’s like I’m looking at evil incarnate.
My tongue ties in knots. “I’ll . . . I’ll . . .”
“I’ve hunted your kind many times before. What are you going to do, fall to those pretty knees andprayme to death?” He scoffs. “Go ahead, give it a try. I can think of other things for you to do while you’re down there.”
His lurid gaze travels down my body, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Gods above, why isthatthe direction men always go in with their insults? Can’t they ever think of something better?
Hedran’s words don’t have the intended effect. Rather than instilling me with debilitating fear, anger froths in my veins. Churning hotter and hotter, it spurs me on.
I inhale deeply, the fingers of my free hand finding the sun dangling from Amelia’s bracelet, and I draw strength from it.
Even if I still believed that Esyn, the Mother Goddess, cared about the gods-blessed and the land she created—and let’s be fucking clear, I don’t think she cares about us at all, even if she’s real—there’s no way I’d waste a breath praying for this man.
“Go, Wren,” Gabriel says, his voice raspy and barely there. “Take Chaos and run. Head for the mountains. You can?—”
Hedran must have added pressure against Gabriel’s throat, because his words end in a strangled cough.
“Shut the fuck up, you bastard.” He digs the tip of his sword into my Hunter’s chest, red darkening the fabric.
My vision narrows in on it until it’s all I can see. My thoughts are consumed by it.
Howdarehe?
It was one thing for me to hate Gabriel—I had plenty of reasons for doing so. It’s another thing for this horrible man to treat him like this. To try tokillhim.
That anger bubbles and boils, turning into something deeper. Darker. I’m vaguely aware that my Mark is scorching and my skin is taking on a blue sheen in the peripheral of my vision.
“What the fuck?” Hedran curses as blue sparks fill the space between us.
“He asked you to leave us alone.” My voice is deeper than it has ever been, and there’s a swirling mass of emotion inside me. I’ve never felt like this—not even on the night of the ball.
I step towards Hedran, and embers jump between us. His face pales, and he stares at me, loosening his grip on Gabriel’s throat. “You... You’re not supposed to have... Argh.”
A gurgling sound comes from Hedran’s throat, and his eyes drop to his chest where a dagger is embedded in his heart.
“You should’ve left when I gave you the chance,” Gabriel rasps, his hand wrapped around the hilt. “You brought this on yourself.”
He twists the blade. The other Hunter cries out, and his knees tremble. Gabriel stares at Hedran as he yanks out the dagger.
Blood pours from the wound, and my heart constricts at the sight.
There’s a moment where nothing happens, a beat of utter silence, and then Hedran collapses, his sword falling to his side. He lands on his back, and his breaths are broken, staggered gasps. Gabriel crouches beside him, angling the dagger towards the other man’s chest.
“It didn’t have to be this way,” he says, almost mournfully.
