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“Key,” I call out. “He’s insane. Don’t—”

A sharp kick to my side knocks the air from my lungs, and I fall over, my face smashing into the ground as I groan.Fuck.

“Don’t fucking talk,” Brodie growls.

My lashes flutter open even as my body continues to throb, and I can see from my vantage point that Key no longer looks shocked. No, right now? Right now she looks pissed as hell.

“Don’t touch him,” she says darkly.

Brodie rolls his eyes. “Key, you’re being—”

“I said, don’t fucking touch him,” she repeats louder. “Listen, Idon’t know what sort of sick power grab you’re going for here, but Lachlan isnotusing me. I knew what he was all along. I’ve been helping him because Iwantto.”

Brodie’s expression morphs with disgust. “Och. You’re not naive, then; you’re bloody stupid. I thought you were smarter than that.”

“And I thoughtyouweren’t a miserable prick, so I guess we’re both surprised.”

I notice Brodie’s fist clench around the knife, and he bristles for a moment before turning on his heel and stomping over to me. He grabs for my hair roughly, yanking up my head, and then I feel the tip of the knife kissing against my throat.

“Fine,” he says. “Tell me where the bridle is. I know the journal must have said.”

“It didn’t,” she protests. “It didn’t say where they put it.”

Brodie scoffs. “You’re lying. You’re a terrible liar, did you know?”

He’s not wrong, unfortunately.

It’s one of the things I love about her, but it’s definitely not doing her any favors right now. Even I can see that she knows something, and I’m pretty sure blood is currently dripping into my eyes.

“Tell me where it is,” Brodie urges as he presses the knife closer to my throat, “or I’m going to use this.”

“If you touch him,” she says with a menacing tone I didn’t even know she had in her, “I’ll fucking kill you myself.”

“As if you could,” Brodie laughs.

Key clenches her fists, jutting out her chin. “I’m not scared of you. You’re just a fucking coward. You’re not going to do a damned thing.”

Brodie is quiet for a moment, his thick body tense with a quiet sort of anger. He finally releases his hold on my hair and stands back up. “Really,” he says coldly. “Let’s see about that.”

Holy fuck, he really is mental.

He’s walking toward a wide-eyed Key with that nasty blade pointed straight at her, and suddenly, I’m seeing red for an entirely different reason. The thought of him hurting her fills me with a burning rage that seems to course through my blood, flooding me with renewed energy, and I pull at the chains on my wrists with everything I can, watching Brodie stalk closer to Key even as she tries to back away.

I roll to my stomach to get a better angle, and then I’m tugging my wrists apart with all my might, closing my eyes and gritting my teeth as I feel the links starting to give way. I’m on my feet and off the ground mere seconds after they snap, rushing Brodie at full speed even with dizziness still assaulting my senses.

He makes a surprised sound when we collide; Brodie falls to the ground near Key, still struggling against my weight and shouting curses all the while. I try to get my hands on his wrist in an attempt to force the knife from his hand, but he lifts his knee into my stomach, and I double over with a groan. He takes advantage of my momentary weakness by rolling away, but before he can completely escape, I grab his ankle and yank him back.

I can feel the unchecked anger ramping up inside me, searing my blood as a roaring sounds in my ears. My fingers prick with the almost painful sensation of my claws forcing their way out, and with the way my skin grows tight, I know that the beast is trying to make its way out.

“Get the fuck away from me, you monster!”

I make another play for Brodie’s knife, and I can hear Key shouting my name from somewhere, but I can’t tear my focus away from this fucker who thought he could threaten her, that he couldhurther. It makes my focus singular as we grapple, and I notice only a second before he jabs the knife up and toward me when I manage to straddlehim, grabbing his forearm with both hands as the knife gets caught between him and my belly.

Brodie puts all his strength behind the attempt, and our proximity makes it difficult for me to divert the trajectory of the massive blade. It’s so close that it would slice me across the gut were I to simply jerk it out of his grip, making the possibility of simply using my strength against him less feasible. I can feel it tear my shirt, only inches from my stomach as I grit my teeth, gripping his wrist so tight that it might snap with any more force. There’s a wildness in Brodie’s eyes that seems unhinged, like he has nothing to lose, like he doesn’t care if he walks away from this—as long as he takes me with him.

Part of me feels almost bad for him, because I can’t imagine growing up in a world where my father didn’t love me like he did. I can’t imagine feeling mental because no one believed what I’d seen with my own two eyes. Maybe in better circumstances, Brodie wouldn’t be like this. Maybe we could have even been friends. Maybe he’s just the product of years of bullying and neglect, desperately reaching for what he thinks is his only solution.

But none of that fucking matters, because he tried tohurtKeyanna.