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Malix, who’s closest to me, still standing in the cell with me, turns to take hold of my arm. His touch is gentle, and there’s something almost like an apology in his beautiful violet eyes.
What-the-fuck-ever. If he thinks that’s going to make me go down without a fight, he’s out of his damn mind.
I yank against his grasp with a growl, forcing him to reach for me with his other hand, too. The moment his body faces me fully, I bring my knee up between his legs and swing my arms around, breaking his grasp on me.
Malix grunts and doubles over, nearly falling into me. I dance away, as far as I can in the tiny cell, but I have nowhere to run.
Because Kian is taking up the entire doorway.
His gold-ringed eyes glint like steel as he snatches for me. One large hand twists into my hair, and he yanks me against him. Tears burn in my eyes, a combination of my already existing injuries being jostled and the hair being damn near yanked out of my head. Kian’s other arm snakes around my torso, pinning my arms to my side and my back to his chest.
I’m completely immobile except for my legs. I kick and scream and curse the three of them with every colorful term I know as Kian hauls me bodily from the cell, across the room, and out into the night.
Of course it’s Kian who’s going to carry me to my death.
Out on the snow-covered street, a crowd has gathered, drawn by the commotion. The long-haired man I’ve seen at Quinton’s side every time he’s around steps forward for a low exchange with the alpha, while Kian sets me on my knees in the snow.
He keeps his fist tangled in my hair, rooting me to the ground.
I glare up at him, thinking of all the things I want to say. I want to tell him how disappointed I am that he’s turned out to be the piece of shit I always expected him to be. That he’s a weak, cowardly shifter, bowing before his despotic alpha.
But I also want to tell him that he deserves better than this life. That he deserves to be his own person, and not a tool for Quinton. All three of them do.
Maybe it’s stupid of me to think that in this moment. But even with his face hard and his gaze avoiding mine as if I mean nothing to him, I can’t help but wish that things were different.
For him. For me. For all of us.
Snow melts beneath my borrowed jeans, soaking through to my skin. The cold grounds me and chases away the worst of the pain from my many injuries, clearing my head. I straighten my spine and level my gaze on Quinton as he comes closer.
The long-haired shifter hands him a gun.
Kian releases me and steps away. I sway a little now that my own strength is the only thing holding me up, but I continue to stare at the alpha defiantly. I won’t look away or cower while he kills me. That’s not who I am.
And if I stare at my murderer, I won’t have to look at Kian, Malix, or Frost. I won’t see the remote indifference on their faces. I won’t have to be reminded that our metaphysical bond was never important to them.
I won’t have to die remembering just how alone I am.
Fear prickles up my spine. Quinton raises the gun to aim it at my head, and I stare up the barrel, trying to get control of my emotions.
I won’t fear death. Death will simply be my next great adventure. I only wish I could have accomplished what I set out to do—to save the world from Quinton’s quest for the shadow realm.
The stout, broad-shouldered man sneers at me. “Any last words?”
I bare my teeth at him. “I hope you choke on your own ego.”
Irritation flashes over his expression, and he pulls the trigger.
But something flashes between us, and Quinton jerks, his arm bouncing away from me. The bullet whizzes past my ear, so close that it ruffles my hair, and my heart squeezes like a vise in my chest.
Time seems to stand still as I struggle to process what just happened. That Frost knocked the gun away from me.
Then chaos bursts out in the street.
Frost shifts quickly into his shadow form, a waterfall of smoke billowing away from him, making him look like a work of dark art. He slams his large head into Quinton’s arm, sending the gun flying from his grasp. Quinton’s long-haired minion leaps forward, shifting into his wolf form to protect his alpha, but Frost snaps at him, driving him back.
In my periphery, I see Malix and Kian shift, too, their massive black shadow forms looming over the surrounding wolves. They clash with their pack, snarling and growling, tossing aside the smaller wolves like they weigh nothing at all.
They’re fighting their own pack.
Their own alpha.
To save my life.
A fresh rush of blood fills my head, making me even more lightheaded. I stumble to my feet and dart away from an attacking wolf, just as Malix throws himself against my attacker. I don’t waste any more time waiting around or trying to process the shock of what just happened. I shift, then launch away from the crowd toward the snowy, open expanse at the edge of the village.
I don’t look back. I just run while I have the chance, while Kian, Malix, and Frost keep the pack busy. I run because I’m outnumbered, because if I stayed and tried to fight, I’d die anyway.
And I run because I’m not sure I’m prepared to stand side by side with those men, even if they did just save my life.
I still have a goal.
My heart pounds in my ears in time with my paws as they thunder over the ground. I can’t believe how close I came to dying. Now that I’m away from Quinton and no longer determined to face death with dignity, to not give him the satisfaction of seeing my weakness, my body begins to break down. All my injuries return full force, and leftover fear makes my legs weak and wobbly. But I keep running anyway.
After a few moments, I sense a presence behind me. More than one of them.
I whip around, my fear spiking.
Three shadow wolves fly over the snow, barely making a sound. They’re so fast it seems unreal, and within moments, they flank me. I have a moment where I’m not sure what’s happening—have they come to drag me back? Are they going to kill me themselves? It’s completely illogical, given the fact that they just fought against their own pack to save my life.
