Chapter 33

When we step back into the cafeteria, all eyes immediately turn in our direction. An array of emotions is visible on each of their faces. Fear, respect, and anger are the most prominent.

I notice, somewhat dizzily, that the man who dragged me out of the cage is leaning against the wall, his throat slit. I have no doubt which man was behind his demise.

Surprisingly, the thought that Damien killed this man on my behalf doesn’t terrify me. Does that make me a horrible person? I was scared when Rion threatened to kill Braelyn, but seeing this man dead sends a wave of cool satisfaction through me. I don’t even dare to begin analyzing my emotions.

Damien, whose head I’m still in, turns towards Rion and Braelyn. The two step forward in unison, proud sets to their chins and steely eyes.

“Nina is under our protection,” Rion says in a cold voice. Braelyn nods in the affirmative.

“You’re choosing Blade’s whore over us?” a shifter exclaims, and Rion charges forward, preparing to strike.

But before he can, Braelyn has her claws pressed to the unruly shifter’s neck. “You dare to question your king?” Without waiting for his response, she swipes her claws across his throat. His hands move to cover the slashes, blood welling, before he collapses. “Anyone else have something to say?”

When no one moves, Braelyn huffs, stalking toward the pretty girl I saw with her earlier. She grabs the girl’s hand, whispers something in her ear, then pulls her to me.

“I’m Jenny,” the new girl says in a soft, almost timid, voice. “I, too, pledge my allegiance to you. Thank you for saving my mate.” Her emerald eyes turn in Braelyn’s direction, as if she holds the moon and stars. Nothing but love emits from her gaze.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Rion asks, moving to stand in between us. He settles a hand on my thigh, squeezing once. “With this type of bond, you’ll be obligated to put Nina’s life before your own and each other’s.”

Braelyn and Jenny exchange an eloquent look before turning back towards Rion in unison. “We’re sure,” Braelyn answers for both of them, and Jenny nods her head once in agreement.

I yearn to have that sort of connection with someone. A bond and trust that courses through my veins and seeps into my bone marrow. For someone to stare at me as if I’m their entire world.

I’m shaken out of my musings by Damien carrying me out of the cafeteria and into the Labyrinth.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Angel?” he asks once we’re far enough away from the others to not be overheard.

I consider his question seriously, taking a moment to catalog my injuries. Though the skin on both my wrists and ankles burn, there are no noticeable marks. There’s a slight throbbing in my head, but nothing overwhelming. Mostly, I feel relieved that I was rescued before something worse could happen. At least it’s better than?—

“Oh my god!” I scream, and Damien drops me onto my feet, immediately grabbing a dagger from his ankle.

“What?” he demands, surveying the expansive hallways. Rion and Braelyn run to stand beside him, weapons drawn as well.

“Are you okay, Buttercup? Who do I have to maim?”

“Maim.” Damien snorts. “That’s child’s play.”

Rion whispers conspiratorially, “I don’t want to say the K-word in front of her. You know, kill.”

Damien turns to stare at me, my heart-shaped face filling up his entire vision. On silent feet, he steps forward and cups both my cheeks. He waits for me to get my thoughts together enough for me to speak.

“Bronson,” I manage to stutter out. “Is he…?” I can’t dare articulate my question out loud. My heart thunders so loudly, I’m surprised they can’t hear it. Panic pulsates through me.

“He’s fine.” Damien almost sounds annoyed by my concern for his friend. Maybe disappointed he didn’t get to kill someone. I’m under no delusion that Damien is anything but an avenging angel; he’s more demonic than angelic.

With a sigh, he slides his dagger back into his sock and lifts me up. I rest my head on his shoulder as relief courses through me. “He was injured, but he’s alive and well. Fucking worried about you.”

Through Damien’s eyes, I see Braelyn shrug sheepishly. “Sorry.”

The events of the day crash over me like a tidal wave, submerging me beneath the ocean line. I take one last breath before I allow the water to carry me away.

I’m pulledout of my slumber by a nose nuzzling my hand. A familiar whine greets me.

Bronson.

A moment later, human flesh replaces coarse fur as I’m ripped from Damien’s arms.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay,” Bronson murmurs repeatedly, burying his face in my hair. He rocks me gently, side to side. The original darkness creeping on me like a phantom dissipates the longer I’m in my protective wolf’s arms.

“I’m okay, Bron. I’m okay.”

He releases a breath, body shuddering, before his entire body goes rigid. I push myself into his head to see what has ensnared his attention.

Bronson’s gaze is fixed firmly on Jenny and Braelyn, the latter of which meets his stare with a defiant one of her own.

“I’m going to kill you,” Bronson roars, blowing the tiny hairs at the base of my neck. I fist my hands on his chest, both keeping him with me and grounded to the present, as well as stopping his pursuit of Braelyn.

“No,” I say firmly, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Trust me.”

“Isn’t this adorable?” Rion asks cheerfully. He bounces from foot to foot. “All my people are getting along. I could write a sonnet right now.”

“We’re not your people, shifter scum,” Bronson spits out, and I inwardly wince at the venom in his tone.

Ignoring the men, Braelyn steps forward and raises her chin. Her eyes spew fire as she focuses first on Rion and then on Bronson. Finally, her eyes rest on me. “My mate and I have sworn our loyalty to your mate, Nina. She saved my life, and I hope to return the favor.”

I know Bronson thinks I’m his mate, but I can’t ignore my feelings for the other men. Is it possible for someone to have more than one? What does it mean for all my relationships? Right now, I’m so relieved that he’s alive and well that I can’t resist tracing the contours of his bare, broad shoulders. Bronson wrenches his gaze away from Braelyn to pepper kisses on my neck. It’s an oddly arousing sensation to see the pathway his lips take across my skin.

Pulling out of Bronson’s head, I settle in Braelyn’s. Her gaze encompasses the entire room we have found ourselves in. Rion is standing over Bronson’s shoulder, a surprisingly tender expression on his handsome face as he considers me. Damien has his arms crossed, stone-faced, a frigid aura emanating from him.

“Bambi!” a voice screams from down the hall. A moment later, the twins appear in the doorway. Abel has a bright smile on his face, eyes glimmering, while Cain’s expression is as stoic as usual. Though, I could’ve sworn I saw his body sag in relief when he caught sight of me.

Abel races forward and pulls me off Bronson’s lap—ignoring his growl—and spins me in a circle. A laugh escapes, unbidden, at his antics. I can always count on cheerful Abel to pull me out of whatever mood I’m in. He’s light personified, the sunlight I so desperately need to not only survive but thrive.

“You need to learn how to fight,” Damien cuts in suddenly. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll know a thousand different ways to incapacitate a man with your bare hands.”

My body goes taut as I process his words. Me? Fighting? Before, I would’ve laughed at the absurdity of such a statement. Now, with both fear and adrenaline pulsing through me, I find myself nodding eagerly. I don’t want to have to rely on others to save me. I have spent enough time as the damsel in distress.

Maybe I should be stronger. Maybe I should learn to fight. That isn’t to say I’m not going to need someone to save me every once in a while, but maybe, in the long run, I can learn to do the saving myself. It’ll be a process—a long, drawn-out one—but a process I’m willing to endure.

And sometimes, your biggest strength is trusting others to shoulder half of the burden. You still feel the weight, the pressure, but it’s not nearly as overwhelming.

“I want my angel to bathe in the blood of her enemies,” Damien says stoutly.

Abel blinks at the mage. “I know what you’re going for, man, but you needed to dial it down a notch. You’re here.” He moves his hand above his head. “And you need to be here.” He lowers it to his chest. “Remember what we talked about: girls don’t like crazy.”

The glare Damien throws him is capable of cutting glass.

“Guys, we do have a problem,” Cain cuts in, casting me an anxious glance. Braelyn immediately drops Jenny’s hand and moves to stand beside me, knife at the ready. Cain’s eyes flicker to her and narrow before settling once more on me.

“What kind of problem?” I ask, abusing my lower lip with my teeth.

“A fifteen-foot, scaly kind.” Cain steps forward to grab my hand and pull me down the hall. I mentally squeal at his initiation of contact but manage to keep my face blank. I slip out of Braelyn’s mind and comfortably settle in Cain’s.

The sex demon leads me to the opulent throne room just as a deafening roar echoes from all around me.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Braelyn interjects before I can enter. “You’re going to make her enter a room with an out-of-control dragon?”

“He won’t hurt her.” Cain dismisses her concern with absolute certainty. “But she’s the only one who can bring him back. Think you can talk some sense into him, Trouble?” He gives my hand a squeeze, and warmth migrates to the center of my chest.

“I’ll try,” I agree tentatively. None of the guys seem worried, and that bolsters my confidence.

Taking a deep breath, I push open the heavy doors and listen to them thud shut behind me.

I pull out of Cain’s head—now on the other side of the closed door—and embrace the darkness. Welcome it like an old friend.

“Kai,” I whisper as another roar sounds from directly in front of me. I take a timid step closer, followed by another one. My hands are outstretched in front of me as I rely on my other senses.

A moment later, my searching fingers connect with something cold and scaly. Warm air blows back my dark hair.

Kai.

No, his dragon.

“Kai?” I whisper. Another burst of air is the only reply I receive. “Malakai, you need to come back to us. To me. Can you do that? Please?” I stroke his scaly muzzle as warm air continues to waft across my face.

In the next second, his scales shift into skin as iron bands wrap around my torso. My hands shake slightly as I rub his now-human back.

Despite him being back in human form, his words are audibly beast-like when he speaks next. “You. Are. Mine.”