Page 25 of Hunted (Love and Revenge #5)

Sadavir

T he night air tasted cold and clean, sharp with dampness and the scent of rich earth. I drank it in, closing my eyes briefly to center myself, grounding with the energies of the earth that were so strong to my naga senses.

The courtyard had long since emptied. We’d eaten dinner out here, someone’s idea of trying to boost spirits with an outside BBQ where we could be closer to nature—the gesture had Cicely written all over it, and I smiled briefly to myself at the thought of Ruya’s handsome faun and how he was such a perfect beta, declaring himself to my mate but looking after us all, using his empathic fae talents wherever he could.

However, my smile and the warmth inside me quickly faded.

Ruya had healed Cicely. He was well—even if the bruised, scarred area around his bite was taking a bit longer to heal than it normally would.

But even though the faun had survived Acacia’s petulant display, looking at him made my heart ache.

It was unconscionable, a sweet, kind beta like him being harmed under the watch of not one, but two powerful alphas.

Robin was infuriating at times, but at least the dragon had some excuse for her failure. I, however, wasn’t dealing with half the challenges she faced, and I had still failed to protect the people around me. I had failed Cicely. I had failed Ruya.

And on an even deeper level, I had failed Josh. He would never forgive himself for what he had done to Cicely, even though he hadn’t been in control of his body at the time. Not only that, he would blame himself for the fact that Robin and her court were now capitulating to Acacia’s demands.

I knew the others around me had mixed feelings about how to handle the whole situation with Acacia.

I could see how, logically, it made sense to play along with her for now, while our goal was the same—killing the emperor.

But this was different. Being forced to serve as her own personal assassins, sent to kill a bunch of other people so she could further her political gains, was repellant on every level .

Even if we didn’t plan to let her take over for the emperor, still.

.. I had spent far too long under her thumb already.

I didn’t relish doing her dirty work for her while she gloated about her power over me. Over all of us.

I was an alpha, and a prince. I was never meant to fall in line and follow orders.

I did it now only for Josh, to ensure his continued safety.

But Acacia had violated his will. She didn’t seem to understand how precarious that made her position—didn’t understand that emotional harm was as serious an offense as physical harm.

I was tempted to go to her, like she’d asked me to, simply to kill her myself and end these games.

But as much as it grated against my very nature to admit it... I wouldn’t succeed. Not when she was ensconced in her court, surrounded by other vampires eager to stay in her good graces by killing anyone who was a threat.

It was getting dark. I should go inside. But I couldn't. Not yet. Not until I worked this restlessness out of my body and soul.

Someone had dragged a training dummy out here into the corner of the courtyard—probably Martina or one of the gammas—which was unsurprising, since we all needed to let off steam these days.

Squaring up with the dummy, I lashed out, hitting it again and again with as much speed and force as I could, letting the rage and frustration pour out of me and into the vaguely deformed face of my victim.

My fists ached, skin raw and knuckles throbbing.

The magic-enhanced dummy barely moved with each strike—it absorbed force too well, refused to crumble under my assault and give me the catharsis I craved.

I wanted someone to hurt. I wanted someone to hit back.

I was trying my best to be diplomatic, but the beast inside of me wanted action, retribution, some physical evidence that we were doing something more than just sitting around while the people under our protection were assaulted and used.

I snarled, letting my innate magic wash over me, enhancing me, making me more than human.

The next hit landed with the full force of my impotent rage—and split the dummy at the seam.

Sand and shredded rubber exploded across the ground as my strength overcame Sanka’s durability spell.

I stood there, breathing hard, fists clenched, sweat chilling on my skin.

The memory of Josh’s animalistic growls echoed in my head.

The memory of Cicely’s hot blood on my hands and the way my heart had nearly stopped when I thought he was going to die.

My pulse roared in my ears.

A shadow shifted at the edge of the courtyard. I didn’t need to look. I knew who it was. I could sense the subtle darkening of the air around me and the hint of unease as the hair on the back of my neck stood on end, warning me of a potential threat.

Dusek stepped forward, silent as always. He wore his usual black long-sleeved t-shirt, dark jeans tucked into worn boots. His long midnight hair was tied back, and his eyes gleamed silver in the moonlight with an otherworldly glow.

“You broke the dummy,” he said, his deep voice casual and unconcerned in the face of my raging lack of control. Again.

Gammas. Never half as cowed by an alpha as they should be. But then, sometimes it was good to have someone around who wasn’t afraid to push back when you needed it.

I shrugged. “It wasn’t hitting back,” I signed as the solar lights around the courtyard kicked on, triggered by the fading daylight and the shadows Dusek always seemed to darken with his mere presence.

I had never met a bubak in person before I came to this court, was barely even aware of their existence as some sidenote in an old book about rare paranormal races.

If I weren’t so busy being angry over Josh and distracted by the true mate who hovered at the edges of my awareness every waking moment of every day, I would have devoted more energy to learning about this fascinating creature by now.

Unaware of my wandering thoughts, Dusek raised a brow at my statement. “Want me to hit you, then?”

I didn’t answer. Not with words. Grinning, I stepped into the center of the ring. He followed.

We didn’t bow. We didn’t speak. We just moved.

The first clash was infinitely satisfying to the primal thing coiled inside me.

Dusek’s block was clean, his counter faster than I expected.

Some magic-users relied on their magic alone to save them in a fight.

Clearly, Dusek was better trained than that.

He was capable. But he pulled his punches, not giving it his all. Not yet. So, I pushed harder.

We circled. Hit. Deflected. Failed to slip past each other’s defenses.

He let his aura flare—just enough to rattle the edges of my control.

I released a bit of the control I kept over my alpha aura in return.

Alpha dominance met shadows and death. Rage met the utter silence of complete soul-ending darkness.

Then he landed a hit.

A low sweep, unexpected, calculated. I stumbled.

Recovered. I threw a punch that he dodged with a flicker of shadows that said he had gone incorporeal for a second there.

“Cheater!” I called out, careful to keep my guard up.

I felt my smile grow manic as I let some of my own magic flow through me, enhancing my speed, lengthening my fangs.

Our magics clashed, unseen but tangible to all my other senses. He was still holding back. I could sense it. There was something truly massive inside him, a darkness and terror not even the strongest alpha in the world could withstand.

I snarled. I was physically and magically strong. Growing up, I had been trained by the best fighters in weapons and hand-to-hand combat. I wasn’t used to being on the losing end of a sparring match.

And somehow, the idea that I might lose was exhilarating.

He caught my next blow and held it , his fingers wrapped around my fist, his dark aura wrapping around my own in a similar fashion. Engulfing me .

Our eyes locked. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. The air crackled with tension.

I ripped free and shoved him. He didn’t budge, his tall, lean frame barely swaying amidst the deep shadows that surrounded us.

“Damn it,” I growled. “I can’t best you.” The frustration hit me fast and hard, followed by a surge of underlying fear and helplessness. “What kind of alpha am I? I can’t beat one little gamma in a fight. I can’t protect my beta.”

And then, as I lunged, ducked and weaved around his rapid attack the real cause of my pain spilled out. “I can’t fix him!” I shouted suddenly.

Dusek blinked. But still, he didn’t speak.

I was as surprised by my words as he was.

But once the raw declaration escaped my lips, I felt the truth of it.

The way it twisted through my chest like a barbed parasite.

Yes, I was furious that I couldn’t save Josh from Acacia’s influence over his mind.

Yes, I was pissed off we were being forced to do her bidding and play her games. But it was more than that.

Under all that, in the quiet, wounded recesses of my soul, was the thing I refused to think about and kept hidden under my rage. Josh— my Josh, my best friend, most loyal attendant, and the man I had loved nearly all my life—had been forever changed. And there was nothing I could do about it.

Even if we managed to sever his bond with Acacia.

Even once the evil vampire queen was dead and gone.

.. Josh would never be human again. When I looked into his beautiful hazel eyes, the gentle, perceptive, caring man I’d known was hidden under the gaze of a predator. And that was never going to change.

Josh. My hands shook as I lifted them to sign, my throat too tight to attempt to vocalize. “I can’t reach him. I can’t help him. I can’t save him!”