“You can never win against me, because guile will always best brute strength.” Jels’s smug look faltered. “You have no idea what’s coming, do you? The threat that can end all of us—the Møriør! But the Forgotten will be ready. We won’t stop until we’ve amassed a Lykae army to protect us outside our realm. Until we’ve sacrificed enough beautiful nymphs to appease our dark god.”
Munro’s busted lips split into a grin. “You’re crazed, you little fuck. Tell yourself whatever you need to.”
A nod at Madadh set the male into motion once more; Munro braced. This one’s goin’ to hurt—
Madadh’s claws plowed through Munro’s face, obliterating his right eye.
Biting back a yell, Munro told Jels, “Ordering him to tickle me? You have to do better than that.”
Another nod from Jels, and Madadh bent to grip Munro’s thigh, readying to snap a femur. Motherfucker!
“Wait,” Jels commanded when another warlock slinked inside the cell.
This minion whispered to Jels, “Ormlo has collected his prize.”
“By all means, have him portal her in.” The minion hastened away, and Jels turned back to Munro. “Do better than that? It seems I just have. We’ve obtained something I think you’ll be very interested in.” His tone raised Munro’s hackles.
Jels crossed to the wall, unhooking the chain there that secured his captive. As the tension on Munro’s arms eased, blood rushed into his limbs, setting off an explosion of pain to rival that in his maimed face. He fought to remain kneeling, keeping Jels in his limited sightline.
He had no hope of defeating Madadh without freeing his own beast. But he could at least snatch Jels’s head from his neck. Munro tensed to attack—
A portal opened, and two beings crossed through it into the cell: a warlock and a raven-haired woman. She shuddered, appearing dazed. A mortal?
“Well done, Ormlo,” Jels told the warlock. “Your team extracted her.”
Ormlo too was bald, his head shining with sweat. Dirt smudged his cheeks, and he limped. “Not without loss of life on our side, Father. The humans were full of surprises.”
Munro barely noted that Ormlo was Jels’s son, too entranced by the lovely young female. Dressed in a formal white gown, she had olive-toned skin, irises the color of new pennies, and flowers woven into her mane of wild black curls.
Jels told Munro, “Meet Kereny Codrina. You wouldn’t believe where—and when—we had to go to procure her.”
She smelled of fire, spices, and sweet woman. At her ethereal scent, Munro’s body shot tight, spine straightening.
Shock assailed him as his Lykae Instinct tolled one word: —YOURS.—
After nearly a millennium of waiting. She’s . . . mine. His father’s words filtered through his consciousness: “When you find your mate, it feels like the hands of gods have reached out to touch you, like your soul’s been branded.”
Aye.
But her wide eyes grew glassy, and she tottered on her feet. Though Munro saw no blood marring her gown, he sensed magic surrounding her. “What the fuck did you do?” he growled, lunging for her.
Madadh clotheslined him, choking him to the ground.
As Munro thrashed against his friend’s hold, his Instinct sounded once more: —YOUR MATE DIES.—
His beast howled inside him to fight for her, but Munro quelled it. If Jels vassaled Munro, he would have no hope of escaping with her, much less of saving her life.
When Ormlo drew away from her, she sank to her knees.
“Behold.” Jels shoved up her sleeves, revealing black veins twining upward from her wrists. “Her lifeblood turns to stone, will reach her heart in minutes. I’m told there’s no worse torment.”
“You hexed her?” Rage tightened his chest, but he couldn’t shake Madadh’s grip with his wrists still bound.
As the black inched up her arms, her expression twisted, and she cried out.
“What do you want, warlock?” Munro bit out. “I’ll do it! Anything!”
Jels tsked. “If only you had cooperated, then we wouldn’t have had to steal her from her own wedding.”
Wedding? Munro couldn’t worry about that. “Bloody tell me what to do to save her.”
“You have little time, Lykae. She fades like night douses day. I suggest a death by bite. It’s much less excruciating than Ormlo’s spell, and she might actually resurrect as a Lykae.” He turned toward the door, saying over his shoulder, “Though females rarely do.” When Jels snapped his fingers, Madadh released Munro and departed with the two warlocks.
Before the cell door clanged shut behind them, Munro had lunged for her once more. “Kereny, my name is Munro MacRieve. I’m going to help you.” He could only imagine what his mutilated face looked like, his missing eye. “Just stay with me.” He looped his bound arms over her body, could feel her shudder as another wave of pain hit.
His mind turned to another human he’d grieved so long ago. Mortals perish so readily. Am I to lose another?
No! “I will no’ let you die.” But black continued to spread along her veins, would claim his mysterious female in moments.