Page 145 of Monstrous Serpent

His knife.

The knife.

Same one he tried to kill me with.

Garrett’s chin lifts, a faint smile forming on his lips. “Recognize it, eh?”

Without thinking, I run my fingers over my joggers, along the scar underneath. I take a deep breath, then release it slowly.

Half a second. That's all he gets.

My gaze locks with his. “Gonna be real embarrassing for you when I take that.”

A gunshot cracks through the air off in the distance. My whole body stiffens, and I whip toward the sound, heart slamming into my throat.

Hunter.

A branch snaps and my gaze cuts back to Garrett just as he bolts, disappearing into the woods. My fists clench, upper lip lifting into a snarl. Every part of me screams to chase him down. But I don’t. Not yet, anyway.

I face my teammates. “Hunt is out there alone. He needs us.”

“On it.” Rua takes off in the direction the gunshot came from, Shin on his heels.

I look at Cap. “There are two others. One’s sniping from somewhere.”

He nods, taps Shaw on the chest. Fucking Calix bounces on his toes, that laugh getting higher, more musical, in a way that makes the hairs on my arms stand up. They take off. I almost say God help whoever Shaw finds, but fuck them. They deserve what he’s about to dish out.

Now that Hunter is covered, it’s my turn.

I sprint after Garrett. My ribs scream on the second stride, but I push through. Killian is on my left. His stride is longer, yet he matches my pace, letting me lead.

Ahead, Garrett crashes through the brush. Not quiet. Not smart. Just running—branches snapping, leaves scattering, his breathing loud enough to follow with my eyes closed.

Killian taps my shoulder twice and veers right, disappearing into the trees to cut off the eastern trail before Garrett can loop back toward the road. I keep straight, breathing controlled, but when I swallow, the ache in my throat flares.

Fuck Hunter.

If we survive this, that asshole is cleaning my room for a month. And he's eating honey pizza every night while he does it. Every. Single. Slice.

Except why should I let him off that easy?

Cody is the one who should have beat my ass. Not Hunter.

A branch whips across my forearm. Garrett's footsteps get louder. He's slowing down. Running out of gas or running out of room.

I slow my pace and listen. My swollen eye throbs with every heartbeat, narrowing my peripheral vision on the left side, so I compensate—head tilting, scanning wider.

Garrett stumbles, and I close the distance.

To my right, Killian comes into view.

“He’s mine.”

Killian nods and hangs back. “Be careful, or I will step in.”

I don’t respond, not when Garrett stumbles again and comes to a complete stop. I lengthen my stride, and when he whirls around, I drop my shoulder and drive into his midsection, lifting him clean off his feet.

We hit the ground hard enough to knock the air out of both of us. Garrett lands on his back, me on top. He twists beneath me and slashes, the blade catching my forearm, dragging through skin. I hiss and jerk back.