Page 73 of Forbidden Empire

Breathe, Esme. Just breathe.

My jaw locked as I dove behind a couch to get out of the line of fire. Aidon dropped to the floor next to me, his eyes going straight to my bloody hand. He didn’t even have to say anything.

“You’ve been shot!” His eyes were wide and wild. “Fuck.”

“I’m fine,” I said, my tone flat, determined.

He practically vibrated with anger, scanning me up and down as he considered his next move. “Stay here. I’ll come back after I kill these fuckers!”

He was seething, on another level of pissed, maybe even crazy. But there was no way I was going to sit tight.

“I don’t take orders from you, Aidon.”

He glared at me, jaw tight. He might have actually growled, all annoyed and exasperated.

Two quick shots from him, and somewhere in the house, then bodies hit the floor. He didn’t even blink, just shot me a look.

“You’re fucking stubborn, you know that?” The way he spat it out almost made me laugh if I wasn’t in so much pain.

Then he grabbed me around the waist, hoisted me up, and tossed me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. I screamed—the pain rocketed through me, white-hot and blinding.

Aidon didn’t let up. He held on, carrying me out of there while Ares, covered in blood, cleared the way, and more bloodied bodies crashed down as we barreled to the front door.

The whole house reeked of smoke, fire eating everything in its path. It was loud, chaotic, but we kept moving.

Outside, Aidon didn’t slow down. He took me straight to his car, hands digging into my side like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go.

Fifteen

AIDON

I should have felt better. Esme was alive, back under my protection, and according to my doctor, she was on the road to recovery. Thank god for small favors.

The on-call doctor approved her for light activity and prescribed pain medication. I remained cautious while moving around her, interpreting every wince as a warning to proceed carefully.

Except…every time she so much as winced, guilt sucker-punched me all over again. Logic told me it was bullshit to blame myself.

She was the one who’d decided to go to Rhea’s in the first place, without bothering to so much as send me a damn text.

She was the one who refused to stay put and let me handle the resistance. She was the one who decided to play kamikaze with Rhea’s guards.

If she’d just stayed in the room I’d locked her in, she wouldn’t have been shot. If she’d never gone to Rhea’s warehouse at all, she wouldn’t have gotten herself locked up. But she had.

Every step of the way, she’d done the opposite of what I’d told her to do.

Which meant, of course, I got to be the lucky bastard who dragged her through the firestorm. And that was where I’d fucked up.

She got shot. Right in front of me. On my watch.

Now, she was in pain, thanks to me.

I was so pissed off, I couldn’t see straight. Furious at her for making my life difficult, angry at myself for not keeping her safe, and just pissed in general at the universe for serving up this particular brand of hell.

I kept leaving the room to get my shit together because there was no way I’d let her see how much she got under my skin.

Not after everything. Not even now.

Most of all, though? I was just fucking furious.