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When a pair of hunters come at me, I back up a few steps before I stop, shaking my head, and remind myself they’re the ones who should be afraid of me.
“You don’t want to do this,” I say in a level tone, hoping they somehow magically decide to turn in another direction.
What an awful moment to realize the guys haven’t taught me glamour yet.
“Oh, we really fucking do,” the younger guy says, sneering at me as he adjusts his grip on his dagger. The guy next to him nods in agreement.
I swallow, my heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird in my chest. “I don’t want to kill you. I don’t want to hurt you.” I back up a few more steps as they continue to advance. “That’s why we're here. I don’t know what Scott told you, but—”
It comes out of nowhere. A body slams into me, knocking me to the side, and I stumble over the uneven ground, whipping around with my fangs extended to their full length and come face-to-face with Brighton.
Her eyes are filled with horror and pain as she shakes her head. “N-no.”
My stomach plummets. “Bri—”
“No.” Her eyes are glassy with unshed tears and her jaw is clenched tightly. Exhaustion, anger, and confusion darken her features, but she doesn’t back down. My gaze drops to the dagger she holds in her dominant hand.
“Please, I… This wasn’t… Please let me explain.” Desperation makes my voice pitchy, and I hate it. I hate this whole thing.
She gasps, her eyes widening seconds before two hunters attack me from behind. One grabs a fistful of my hair, yanking me backward. Sharp pain lances across my scalp, and I snarl, throwing my arm back to catch the guy in the face with my elbow, breaking his nose with a satisfyingcrunch.Blood pours from his nostrils, and my throat burns at the sight, my gums throbbing.Sink your fangs into him. Drink him dry and end his suffering.
I recoil, not sure where the hell that came from. That isn’t me—thatcan’tbe me. But it was my voice.
Another small group of hunters circles me in the few seconds I was caught in my own head, and my pulse spikes with panic. More so over the thought of having to kill them thanthemkillingme.
A black-haired female hunter moves in front of me, managing to clip my jaw with her fist. It doesn’t hurt as much as it catches me off guard, and before I can shove her away or disarm her, I feel movement behind me and turn just in time to catch the sharp end of a dagger in my shoulder. A growl tears from my throat, and I pull the dagger out by the hilt, jamming into the side of the woman’s neck who stabbed me before she has the sense to move away. Her eyes bug out of her head, and she gasps, choking on her own blood as she sinks to her knees and collapses on the ground, her eyes going vacant in seconds.
“Calla.” Brighton’s voice makes me turn back toward her. Big mistake. Four new hunters are right there, grabbing me by the arms. I snarl, gnashing my fangs in their faces as I manage to fight a couple of them off, though not before one lands a solid punch to my gut and another takes a shot at my chest with his dagger and gets me in the side.
Screams of pain and anger echo through the clearing as the fight rages on, and not having even a second to take a look around and make sure my guys are okay has me wired.
I yank the dagger out and drop it on the grass, blinking down at it, my stomach churning at the sight of it covered in my blood.
Another hunter grabs me from behind before I can dart out of reach, and she jabs something into my side that immediately fills my veins with fire. My knees give out and hit the ground, my muscles seizing tightly as I gasp for breath.
That bitch just tased me with a goddamn cattle prod. Something that would likely kill a human and is making it difficult to focus as I scream at my legs to work, to move me away from the hunters closing in on me.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I cry out for Atlas—at least, I think I do.
Sounds are muffled and my vision is going in and out, refusing to focus.
A heavy boot connects with my chest, knocking me back flat against the cold ground.
I blink hard, willing my vision to clear so I can at least attempt to fight off my attackers until someone steps in to help me.
When Brighton’s face appears over me, blocking out the sunset in the sky above, my stomach clenches with nausea.
Oh no. Please, no.
She crouches beside me, her expression filled with anger and pain, and when she pulls a dagger out from behind her, everything in me seizes with fear and dread.
The orchestra of fighting around me starts to come back and the familiar sounds of the guys’ shouting is like a punch in the gut. They’re trying to get to me, but there are too many hunters holding them back, and it even looks as if a few of Marcel’s guys have been taken out.
“Pl-please,” I croak, tears leaking out the sides of my eyes as I blink up at her.
She shakes her head, a sheen of sweat covering her forehead. She clenches her jaw as her chin quivers and her pulse becomes even more erratic, her heart pounding in her chest.She doesn’t want to do this.She doesn’t want to be here as much as I don’t want to be here.
I try to get up, but the woman with the cattle prod is back, slamming the hilt of it into the side of my head before shooting another shockwave through me near my ribs. Seconds later, I barely make out Brighton’s dagger-wielding arm lifting in the air.
“Brighton, don’t!” Atlas snarls.
White-hot pain flares through me, searing my veins with paralyzing agony. The world around me narrows. My stomach drops, my throat constricting too tight to breathe as the weight of realization slams into me like a freight train, making my eyes burn with tears. Betrayal and heartbreak rip through me, sharp as the dagger sticking out of my chest.
My best friend is going to kill me.
