She rapped on the carriage wall. “What is happening?!”
“Stay inside, Highness!” someone barked.
But she already opened the door. The instant her slippers met the dirt, the world tilted into madness. One of the soldiers lay crumpled in the road, throat opened to the bone, blood spilling in a dark, steady sheet. Another reeled backward, clutching at a deep slice through his mail, eyes wide with disbelief.
JingYi froze when she saw the one behind him. Holding a slender blade glinting under the afternoon light, was . . .Tedric.
His rapier moved with an elegance that stole her breath, each thrust and slash clean, precise, unhurried. He sidestepped a charging Alpha without breaking stride, the point of his blade catching the man beneath the chin, driving up through soft tissue. The soldier convulsed, boots scraping the dirt before he dropped.
The last Alpha came at him in a desperate arc of steel. Tedric’s wrist turned, deflecting the blow, and in the same motion, his blade slid between ribs, quick as breath. Hewithdrew it with a twist that sent a fan of blood across the road. Warm droplets struck her cheek, sliding down over her birthmark.
No veil to hide behind this time.
The silence afterward was deafening. Horses blew nervously, hooves stamping the path. Tedric stepped through the bodies leisurely, the rapier’s tip leaving a thin, wet trail in the dirt. He stopped before her.
She looked up at him, at those brown eyes, so often docile. Her breath snagged as he touched her blood-splattered cheek. His thumb moved deliberately, as though wiping away something that didn’t belong. His fingertips skimmed the familiar curve of her birthmark. No revulsion, no hesitation, only that unnerving calm, as if the slaughter had been a passing inconvenience, disturbingly gentle for a man who had painted her in blood.
“Who are you?” she rasped.
A smile curved his mouth. “Today? The Beta who keeps you alive. Tomorrow? We’ll see if I’m still in the mood.”
He let his hand fall, leaving her skin cold where his warmth had been. Nausea churned in her belly.
“You killed them all,” she whispered.
The arch of his brow was almost pleasant.
“Nothing like the sound of an Alpha hitting dirt to brighten the day. They were disappointingly slow, though.” His nose wrinkled. “And they claimed to be Wulfbane’s finest?”
“They were your comrades.”
“Obstacles, all of them,” he corrected, still smiling. “I remove obstacles. Efficiently.”
Her hands trembled. “Why am I still breathing, then?”
Tedric’s gaze swept her from head to toe, clinical, appraising. “Because you’re not an obstacle. You’re . . . aninvestment. And I take care of my investments.”
He leaned closer, voice dropping. “I imagine Alexander Wulfbane told you I was trustworthy. In a way, he wasn’t wrong.”
She flinched as his fingers caught her chin, tilting her face toward him. “You’re safer with me than with anyone else right now. That’s the truth.”
A distant shout tore the hush. Hooves hammered the path. Tedric’s smile thinned as he straightened, rapier at the ready. “Ah. Here comes the interruption.”
The brush split. Conrad burst into the clearing astride his mare, mud spattering, sword drawn. He must’ve doubled back after they left the main road and followed the carriage trails, trusting his instincts over Alexander’s orders.
“Get away from her!”
JingYi’s heart lurched. “Conrad, no—go back!” she shouted.
He didn’t listen. He swung down before the horse had fully halted, steel meeting steel. Tedric took the first cut on his rapier and let it skid aside with lazy precision.
“You’ve improved,” he said, stepping on a diagonal and turning Conrad with him. “But you still lead with your temper. Like an Alpha.”
Conrad pressed harder. The clearing rang. JingYi lunged for Tedric’s arm—he sidestepped without looking, shoving her aside with a casual backhand that sent her stumbling.
“Stay back,” he said, his eyes never leaving the boy, “or he dies faster.”
She caught herself against a tree, breath knocked loose. Conrad was pressing forward, too fast, too angry. “I never trusted you,” he snarled. “Who are you?”
