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“Your blood. Give it to him.Now.”
Saint dumped Octavius onto the ground beside the feeder. A section of metal bar protruded from his chest, and his heartbeat stuttered, each beat potentially his last.
“No,” Octavius wheezed. His throat was wrecked, but he spluttered out that word.
A thunderous growl rumbled from Saint. “Do it.”
“…not… saving… your… feeder!”
Saint reared up and roared so loud it would have been a miracle if it wasn’t heard in St. Louis. Birds started from the forest, and the sound of that roar rolled like a wave across the lake and hills.
He grabbed Octavius’s right arm and snapped it backward.
White-hot pain tore through Octavius. He clamped his teeth, venom dripping, and stared back at the monstrous nyktelios. “I’d… rather… die…”
“Die a betrayer?” Saint asked. “Is that truly what you want? Then they will never learn your truth. ”
Octavius cradled his broken arm against his chest and glared at Saint. He was right. If Octavius died here, he’d always be guilty. And if Octavius didn’t betray Mikalis, who did? But he couldn’t give a feeder his blood. It went against everything Octavius believed in. Assuming Saint had already shared blood, then Jayden might turn if he took in more of Saint’s blood while in this state. It was better to let the man die and end his suffering.
“Do it, or I will rip out your heart and eat it in front of you.” Saint’s eyes blazed.
Octavius swallowed through his healing throat. If the man died, Saint would kill him. He’d do more than that—he’d rip Octavius apart. That much was clear. And he wouldn’t stop there. Rabid like he was, he’d go on killing. He’d slaughter anyone he came across and might even get as far as St. Louis. He’d create more feeders. Mikalis had failed to kill him once. What if he kept on failing? What if Saint wasstrongerthan Mikalis? He might create an army of nyks.
But if Octavius saved Jayden, none of that would happen. At least, not yet.
“Too slow!” Saint grabbed Octavius’s good wrist, the one not yet broken, and bared his fangs.
“No, wait!”
Saint struck. His teeth plunged into Octavius’s wrist. If his fangs injected venom, it would ravage Octavius’s body, killing him. But Saint needed him alive; he wouldn’t inject venom. This was just about blood. Saint tore at the wound, opening it wide so the blood flowed. He yanked Octavius onto his side and knelt over Jayden, hauling Octavius’s arm with him.
“Wait, I can—”
Saint slammed Octavius’s bleeding wrist against Jayden’s lips and held it there with one hand as he used the other to yank the rebar from the man’s chest.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was a nightmare. “Stop, wait!” But nobody was listening. “Please,” Octavius begged, and hated himself for it.
“Saving him costs you nothing,” Saint growled.
It did. It would cost him everything! “Mikalis will think… I’m working with you.”
If Mikalis learned he’d fed a feeder, he’d never take Octavius back. Not on top of everything else. This was wrong.“Stop!”
Saint roared, shaking off the attempt to control him. “Get the fuck out of my head, Little Wolf. Why do you care what Mikalis thinks? He does not care for you.”
Strange, how hearing it now, on his side, hurting in all ways, beaten and abused by a powerful nyk, was perhaps the first time he understood what that meant. Mikalis did not care. Saint’s words hit him like a slap to the face. Octavius had served Mikalis for millennia. One accusation, that was all it took, and Mikalis had turned on him.
“Jay?” Saint said, his voice much softer. So soft, in fact, that Octavius studied the monster who knelt over his feeder. The madness in his eyes was not madness after all, but terror. Hecaredthat Jay lived.
But that wasn’t possible. Nyks didn’t care. They killed and fed and fucked like a plague. Saint was nyktelios. But he’d been Brotherhood. Did that mean something?
Octavius looked at the young man dying beside him. This wasn’t going to work. If Jay didn’t swallow, Octavius’s blood wouldn’t find its way into his veins. He’d die here, and Saint’s rampage would be legendary, and Octavius could have stopped it.
“Let me help him,” Octavius croaked out.
Saint bared his fangs. “If he dies, you will beg me for death after I am done torturing you, Brotherhood.”
Octavius nodded. “He won’t die.” Saint let his arm up, and Octavius removed his bloody wrist from Jay’s mouth. He gestured for Saint to move off the man, and after Saint crawled aside, Octavius straddled Jay’s legs. Octavius righted his own broken arm with a savage crack and winced around the thumping pain, then raised his right wrist, biting into it again to reopen the wound.
