Page 119 of Freed By the Witchbone Knife

But then he’d reminded himself why he was doing this.

All of it faded into background noise after that. There was only one thing that mattered. Rebecca.

“Well if it isn’t the mongrel himself.” Blackthorn’s voice dripped with disdain. “How nice of you to join us.” He shifted, keeping the gun trained on Rebecca while keeping his gaze on Axel. “You’re too late. The knife is mine.”

“Doesn’t look like it from here.” Axel took a step into the chamber, muscles coiled. The lunarium formations cast eerie shadows across the space. “Looks like you can’t even touch it—or you’d already have it.”

Blackthorn’s jaw tightened. “A temporary setback.”

“Is that what you call failure now?” Another step. “All that power. All those threats. And you still need a gun.”

“I need insurance.” Blackthorn’s glowing eyes flicked between Axel and Rebecca. “Against unpredictable animals.”

“Then you should have brought a bigger gun.” Axel’s lips pulled back, showing teeth. Not quite human anymore now that his canines had elongated. “Because I’m going to rip you apart for laying a finger on what’s mine.”

“Yours?” Blackthorn laughed, sharp and cruel. “She’s not yours, wolf. She never will be. The moment I break her curse⁠—“

“You aren’t breaking shite,” Axel interrupted. “If anyone breaks that curse, it will be Rebecca. Because she’s brave and strong. And she will never be yours. You don’t deserve her. You’re just a piece of shite. One I’ll be wiping the floor with soon enough.”

Blackthorn’s face flushed with anger. “You think you can take me?”

“I know I can.” Axel crouched slightly, ready to spring.

“Axel—“ Rebecca’s voice was small and scared.

“It’s all right, sweetheart.” He didn’t take his eyes off Blackthorn. “I’ve got you.”

“How touching.” Blackthorn sneered. “A feral wolf and the cursed witch. What a pair you make.”

“Better than a pathetic gobshite who drugs women and waves guns around.”

Blackthorn’s finger twitched on the trigger. “Careful, mongrel.”

“Or what? You’ll shoot me?” Axel spread his arms slightly. “Go ahead. Won’t stop me from tearing your throat out. Might slow me down. But it won’t stop me. Not unless you got a healthy dose of iron in those bullets.”

“Care to test the theory? Why don’t I give you a bullet right between the eyes?”

For a heartbeat, neither moved.

Then Blackthorn made his mistake. His eyes flicked to Rebecca for just a second—maybe to ensure she was still there, still under his control.

It was enough.

Axel launched himself forward with supernatural speed. The gun went off—a deafening crack in the enclosed space—but the bullet went wide, striking a lunarium formation. It exploded.

He hit Blackthorn like a freight train. They went down hard, rolling across the chamber floor. The gun skittered away into the darkness.

Blackthorn recovered fast. His hand shot out, palm glowing with sickly red light. “Foolish wolf.”

The magic hit Axel square in the chest.

Pain exploded through him. Not physical—worse. Like his blood was boiling, his bones grinding against each other from the inside. A familiar sensation he hoped to never feel again.

Blood magic.

Fuck.

This was the worst place to feel the familiarity of it. But he couldn’t afford to lose focus. Not when his mate was relying on him.