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I heard Nathaniel’s muttered curse half a second before Micah’s fist connected with my cheek, making the skin there throb. We went back and forth, trading blows that only seemed to feed the anger and resentment inside me.
Micah was annoyingly calm, the way he’d always been when we’d trained together. He had this way of seeming completely in control of the match, making you feel like every hit you got in was because he let you.
“Feel better?” he asked.
“Not even close,” I growled.
“Too bad. That’s enough.”
I ignored him, throwing a strike toward his ribs.
I never made contact.
Agonizing pain exploded through me. I didn’t even feel my body hit the ground as I writhed, trying in vain to escape the torture. I couldn’t even scream, though I was pretty sure the raw choking sound was coming from my throat.
“Stop!” Nathaniel screamed for me.
The pain continued for another few horrible seconds before cutting off abruptly. I sucked in air, rolling onto my back while I fought to pull myself together.
“What the hell?” Nathaniel demanded while I slowly climbed to my feet as the strength returned to my limbs.
“I’m sorry,” Micah said softly, his voice barely audible over the sound of my own breathing. “I wasn’t going to let that fight go on until you were a bloody pulp.”
I glared at him.
“You can be pissed all you want, but your fights are my fights, asshole. That’s what family is.”
“There’s nothing you can do.” Why was this so hard for him to understand? The law was the law. Micah couldn’t change that any more than I could.
“And you didn’t trust me enough to come to me anyway.”
“It has nothing to do with trust.”
“Enough,” Nathaniel said from where he was still guarding Asura. “Sam, if Piper’s your mate, the law doesn’t apply to you. You can give her the life you want to.”
I scoffed. “Mates are one in a million. At least.”
“Try to hurt her,” he said, his expression dead serious. “If she’s your mate, you won’t be able to.”
“And if she’s not?” I asked.
“Then you’re no worse off than you are right now. Don’t do anything too dangerous or painful, just in case.”
“You’re going to bet on beingmates?” Asura asked with a hysterical-sounding laugh. “When did you become a fantasist?”
“Sam.” A feminine voice that had no business being on this island called out to me.
I turned, and a clump of ice lodged in my gut.
It wasn’t just Sierra. Joriel and Siren were both with her.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I demanded.
Siren flinched even though she was the only one the question hadn’t been directed at. I knew what she was doing here—Sierra and Joriel had brought her.
“This is your doing?” I asked Joriel. He was wearing a T-shirt that covered the only bit of normal-colored skin he had left, hiding the indication of how close he was to losing his soul.
“Someone had to save you from yourself,” Joriel said with a shrug.
