Page 10 of Hybrid Heroics

“Give it a minute,” he rasped, his jaw muscles ticking as he ground his teeth together. “It’ll pass. This isn’t something you can heal.”

Stone gave me a worried glance, but all I could do was shrug. I didn’t know why York was hurting, though I could see thick welts appearing on his exposed skin. They lined his arms and neck, the angry red coloring fading quickly, leaving scars in their wake.

“Is that…” Stone scratched his cheek, clearly at a loss. “Is this the thing that happens when you’ve been gone for too long?”

York groaned and laughed at the same time. “They’re marks of power that royals get. And they usually come one at a time. That’s why it hurts.”

“You haven’t been back in years.”

“Right,” he replied to Stone, sucking in a labored breath. “And I’ve grown significantly since I was last here.”

“Uhm, guys?” Briggs called, sounding alarmed as he stared at Sloane’s limp body in his arms. “Are you sure we aren’t being attacked?”

Stone and Palmer helped York to his feet as I moved to stand in front of Briggs.

The same marks ripping across York’s body appeared on her chest and neck, creating an intricate, vine-like design. With the way the pain knocked York down, I half expected to see some flicker of life from her.

But there was nothing.

No sudden shifting behind her eyelids. No tightening of her mouth or flare of her nostrils.

Zero recognition.

She was still an empty shell. Her breaths came every few minutes, though they weren’t exactly regular enough to judge her health. Her heart didn’t beat normally, either. She looked dead, except for the odd glow under her skin.

This had gone on for hours.

“Let’s get moving,” York finally stated, shaking his arms out as he winced.

The entrance to the druids’ realm dropped us into a humid jungle. Mossy green trees reached for the sky, bigger round than any plant life I’d ever seen. Small black buds were clustered in the leaves. Or maybe they were dark purple. I couldn’t be sure until they opened to reveal the flowers.

York had once spoken of this place, saying the trees were cousins to redwoods, only they talked more. I thought he’d had too much to drink until he explained why being barefoot was so important.

Even now, he had taken his shoes off and shoved them into his backpack before we came through the portal.

I glanced around to make sure our party was intact, wondering what the locals would think of eight guys walking out of the jungle carrying a limp woman. Not to mention the hellhounds, in their original form, flanking Briggs, who brought plenty of attention because of his size.

Murphy and Thatcher were mixed in with the guys, the former giving the hellhounds a wide berth. But my gaze darted back to York after only a moment.

He looked strange. The scars lining his skin were unusual, but then again, they were something I hadn’t seen on him before today. Another pained expression crossed the druid’s face, though it was less agony than he’d displayed thus far.

Novak twisted his right hand in his hair, tugging on the strands as he frowned at our mate, finally breaking his silence. “What the fuck are we going to do?”

Briggs grunted. “I think we should take her home until she wakes up.”

“We can’t leave,” Stone muttered.

“No. We can’t,” I agreed.

“But what are we doing here?” Palmer demanded. “We can’t just—”

“Shhh.” York hushed us as he glanced around, his brows drawn low.

The vampire stopped, leaning forward as if to better listen for an ambush. “Are we not supposed to be here?”

“Something feels… off?” York shook his head, touching the tree beside him. “It’s weird here. I don’t like this.”

“What is it?” Murphy whispered, rubbing his hands together as he surveyed the jungle.