Page 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
O h, fuck. Oh, saints. When Vawn regained consciousness and forced his screaming, throbbing body to roll into his front, to look at the bloodied corridor—when he saw what had been done to Ark —vomit burned up his throat and splattered the floor in front of him.
He wiped his mouth with a trembling hand. He couldn’t breathe. Where had Karmen gone? Where was Kheir? Had she… had she gone to Maia, to take her rage out on their mate? He needed to get to her now.
He thought it would work, that there was enough of an opening, enough of a chance. Bitterness tasted like blood on the back of his tongue. He failed. They all did.
Vawn tried to stand, but his legs shook, the Eversky’s magic still crushing him, making every part of his body scream with pain. He couldn’t get his legs under him.
“Ark,” he breathed, surprised by the ragged quality of his voice. Ark was unconscious on the floor, his hands and legs spread and iron nails had been hammered through his hands and feet. “Ark.”
Vawn dragged himself across the carpet, managing to crawl even with his whole body pounding and weak. His energy drained before he reached Ark but he dug his fingernails into the carpet and heaved himself the last few inches, ignoring the wrongness in his shoulder. Best case scenario was dislocation. He was trying not to look at it.
“Please be alive,” he rasped, shaking Ark’s shoulder as gently as he could. How the fuck was he going to get the nails out of his hands and feet? Karmen had driven them right through his damn shoes, making a mess of blood all over the floor. He couldn’t begin to imagine how much it had hurt.
He bent over Ark, cutting off his own breath as he waited for the man to breathe. The faint puff of air that hit his cheek made Vawn’s throat close up. He was alive. Thank fuck. Vawn couldn’t do this alone. Knowing everything the Eversky had planned, the limits of her cruelty—as in, there were none—he couldn’t do this alone.
He angled himself over Ark so he could use his left hand, ignoring the deep throb of his right and the way his arm hung limply. The nail was ice cold in his hand but he didn’t have the same aversion to iron as fae so he held on, gritting his teeth as he used the dregs of his strength to rip it free. It resisted, driven through his flesh right into the floor, but Vawn panted and kept pulling until it was free. When he moved to the second nail, Ark came awake with a scream of pain that rang through Vawn’s ears, cut through his brain, and stained his soul. It was a scream that scarred. A scream that would follow him into nightmares.
“It’s Vawn,” he rushed out, trying to catch Ark’s gaze. “You’re alright.” That was a lie. “You’re alive,” he amended. “I’m going to get the nails out, just hold still.”
“Nails…” Ark slurred.
Vawn wanted to haul him into a hug, wanted to offer comfort so badly that his chest cinched tight with pain. “You’re going to be fine,” he breathed, his voice shaky. “Just breathe, you’ll be fine.”
He wouldn’t be able to walk until he healed, and this court was full of predators and evil; he wouldn’t be fucking fine. But Vawn’s instincts to soothe wouldn’t be denied, so he murmured sweet nothings and caring nonsense as he ripped out the second nail, then the third, and the fourth. Ark’s screams were like bruises on his soul, like physical hits to his chest.
“That’s it now,” he said, breathing fast, his hands shaking. “They’re all out.”
“She… nailed me… to the floor?” Ark asked haltingly, his face covered in sweat, breathing fast.
“Yeah,” Vawn confirmed weakly, blinking fast, trying to unhear Ark’s screams. “I’m going to get you out of here.”
Even if he couldn’t save Kheir, even if he’d failed Maia, even if after all this, after every sacrifice and touch he’d endured, he never even met Maia, he could do this. He could get Ark to safety.
“Come here, hold onto me, I’ll help you up.” He reached for Ark’s shoulders, his stomach cramping at the veil of pain across his eyes. Standing would be agony for Ark. He might pass out again. And Vawn’s shoulder was definitely wrecked. But he had to try. He could do this. The Eversky was busy, and the other saints were occupied. He could do this.
Ark clenched his jaw as Vawn helped him up, trying in vain to hold back a scream. When it burst free it was deeper, full of a growl that made Vawn flinch. He ignored it, ignored the tightness cinched around his chest.
“There’s a portal on this side of the court,” he explained, desperate to give Ark hope, to give himself hope. “All we have to do is reach it, and you’ll be out of here.”
“Not… without Maia,” Ark argued, her name scaling into a sharp cry as Vawn began to walk, pulling him along. He couldn’t afford to be gentle. He didn’t have much energy left, didn’t have any magic, and he needed to reach the portal before everything went to shit. Before they were caught again.
Maia’s name was like a stake driven through Vawn’s chest. His eyes blurred, but he blinked them clear and forced himself onwards, Ark panting as he tried to walk on the tips of his toes.
“Can’t leave her,” Ark rasped, leaning heavily on Vawn. “Mate.”
“Yeah,” Vawn said thickly, his throat tight and choked. “I know.”
But if Ark was taken to safety, it was one less mate that could be used to control Maia. One less threat to her. One less way to kill her.
“Yours,” Ark slurred, his left foot slipping, pitching them dangerously close to the wall before Vawn managed to readjust their balance. The pressure on his fucked arm was so bad that his eyes stung.
He wanted to ask how Ark had guessed, but they didn’t have time and Ark couldn’t explain anyway. He could barely speak. So Vawn just blinked a burning tear free, ignored the pain ripping apart his chest, the memories of everything he’d done poisoning him, promising she would never want a mate like him. He shook his head and immediately regretted it when dizziness gripped his head.
“Window,” Ark croaked, his foot slipping again, sending Vawn into a panicked scramble to keep them upright. His knee buckled but they stayed on their feet, for now.
“Window?” Vawn rasped, his breathing laboured, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose. What the hell did that mean? What window? He stumbled forward another step—and shrieked when glass exploded inward, a huge, scaly white head appearing through the abrupt hole in the wall ahead of them. Right. That window.
Vawn flinched back a step, violent trembles threatening to drop them both to the floor as membranous wings appeared, hooked claws at the edge of each rope of muscle, gouging the stone windowsill as… as a drake hauled itself through the broken tooth of the window and into the hallway.
“Nice drakey,” Vawn whispered, backing up on legs that felt like jelly. “Nice drakey.”
Smoke-grey eyes met Vawn’s, then Ark’s, a striking intelligence in them. The creature of myth halted there in the hallway, its massive body half hanging out the window. Vawn went cold all over, air scraping up his throat as he stumbled back another step.
Ark passed out in Vawn’s arms, the sudden shift of weight enough to send Vawn to the ground. The general’s body landed across his legs, pinning him to the floor as the drake clawed itself through the window, an enormous tail swinging across the hall, sending a mess of dangerous fractures shooting through the walls. Above, the roof shook with impact as the drake shifted around.
Vawn stopped breathing entirely when it advanced towards him and Ark, its jaws open to reveal two rows of razor-sharp teeth.
Table of Contents
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