32

A R Y A

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"There you are at last." I heard Arami's voice, but I didn't turn to him, still keeping my eyes on where Rowtag lay. couldn't leave him Did not want it.

'Good, you have someone. Then let's go.” Xenos said coolly, as suddenly the cells of the entire gallery shook and suddenly fell open. All the prisoners stepped out, turned their heads towards us and stared at us with their dark eyes.

Aramis cursed. "That's just what we needed!"

"Go!" Xenos ran, Aramis and the werewolf, whom he was dragging with a rope, rushed after him through the underground passages. Loud rumbles of hundreds of footsteps echoed in the tunnels and the ground shook from the prisoners charging at us.

"Put me down." I gently placed my hand on his cheek. "We're faster if I run myself and you don't have to carry me."

Without contradicting me, he let me down without slowing down. I landed at a run and ran alongside him.

I looked back briefly. Aramis had one of his hands stretched behind him and kept sending waves of supernatural pressure to push Echinda's victim back, but that wouldn't keep her from getting to us forever. I quickened my pace, hoping we'd make it outside safely, but my mind was still on Rowtag.

How dark his eyes had been. How strong and fast he was. And how abysmal evil he had felt. He wanted to kill me. No, “she” wanted to kill me. Until she changed her mind “for whatever reason” in Gaia's will.

"Faster Arya."

Though my head was pounding harder with each kick and sending hellish drumbeats through my body, I listened to Xeno's words and tried to run even faster. One last bend in the tunnel and we rushed straight for the exit. I could already see the field grass, swaying in the breeze and shimmering in the moonlight. No demons waiting for us to eat their fill of our life energy. Instead, a deserted large meadow area awaited us, where nobody was to be seen far and wide. It was almost as if Echinda wanted us to get away from her. Could that be coincidence?

That, or Reah, Beau and Arrow were masters at distraction.

Without further incident we sped across the field, the prisoners close on our heels.

"Into the portal!" Xenos yelled, and it's only then that I spot Reah standing beside a swirling golden portal at the tree line.

We all made it to the portal, the loud roar of the prisoners at every turn. Aramis, who had one of Echinda's victims in tow, was the first to step through the whirlpool. Xenos was already running toward it when I couldn't help but look back one last time. Rowtag was still in there. All alone. Foster siblings would never have let each other down. They fought to the last breath.

“I'll get you out of there. And you will become Rowtag again. I promise to you.”

Before I could stand there stupid any longer and the prisoners could eat me alive, Xenos grabbed my hand and dragged me through the portal with him.

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X E N O S

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"What happened?" Beau asked when we were all safely back in the armory.

I had to bury my wolf deep inside me with his angry roar before I even said a word. It was like I was still standing in front of that cell, clutching that “fucking” bars that separated me from it. Fear wasn't even remotely the correct word to describe what I was feeling at that moment. I could still see her, a pained face, bloody teeth and torn clothes. Strange hands touching her. Hands they shouldn't have touched. I should have cut it off, let that warrior bleed to death, and then stuffed his hands in his mouth. He shouldn't have touched her. He shouldn't have hurt her. “Not” “my Arya”.

I wanted revenge and I would get it. Echinda would writhe in agony before I finally destroyed her.

My voice was still more of a growl than usual when I said, "Nothing important."

I'd be damned if I told anyone about Arya. First, I knew her pride, and second, if she hadn't even mentioned that friendship to me, no one else should know about “this” “friend”. That alone was something that concerned her and me.

A side glance at Aramis was enough to know that he wouldn't say a word about it. Except maybe to Zaira, but that was acceptable.

"You were twenty minutes late!" Reah exclaimed, her eyes caught on Arya.

I squeezed her hand, which was still in mine, and tried to shake off the cold, dark feeling that was threatening to break out in my chest. Because it wasn't Arya's fault that we had a delay. Of course, she was involved, but it was mostly my fault. Something had happened in the tunnels. Something I couldn't remember. One moment I was still fighting the demons and the other I woke up to the wet stone floor.

Had they siphoned off a boost of my life energy? But why would they have left me a remainder then?

Demons warned greedily, drank every last sip of a being's life, they would never overlook a part. But if it hadn't been a warrior from hell, what had happened?

"It took me a long time on the lock, got it?" Aramis said, almost annoyed, and then actually rolled his eyes. 'If that were all. I'll put this one in the dungeons and then off to Zaira's.” Without waiting for a reply, he stalked out of the armory, dragging the werewolf soldier behind him with a single flick of his index finger.

Then we all made off. Arya walked quietly up the carpeted stairs beside me. We didn't say a word, just held our hands in silence. I had never seen her like this before. She was always proud, courageous and self-confident. But now she was restless and unfocused - almost blown away. And it's because of that “friend”. The image flashed before me again - a knife at her throat, blood, a high-pitched scream. If I was late...

My wolf growled and threw himself against the inner walls. Scratched and yelled, wanting to make sure our mate was okay.

Keeping my claws from escaping, I gritted my teeth and headed for our chamber. But the images didn't go away, nor did the screams.

I locked the door behind me.

"We need to wash off our “Razuva”," Arya said quietly, then disappeared into the ensuite and came back with a wet washcloth. She took my hand and led me to the bed. With a light squeeze of her hand on my chest, I sat on the end of the bed and stared up at her.

Her fine braids and single dark strands framed her beautiful face, and her curling lashes lay like two black crescents on her silky soft, caramel-colored skin as she glanced down at the washcloth. She was so damn pretty.

I never wanted to see her face twist in pain again. Never wanted to see the fear in those charming brown eyes again, whose green speckles shimmered grass green in the sun. My wolf growled and my chest burned.

"Stop shaking." Gently, she took my hand and pulled it to her cheeks. "I'm right here. I'm doing well."

I hadn't even realized that my body was still shaking. "Of course." I opened my fist and put my hand to her face, running my thumb over the black paint I'd painted over her hours earlier, laughing. I never wanted to see her on her face again. "I wouldn't allow anything else."

"I knew you would get me out of there."

I saw the trust in her eyes as she kissed my palm and it was like she was burning her mark right into my soul.

"Come to me." I pulled my hand from hers and lifted her onto my lap, kissing her, trying to feel all the warmth, the tingling heat, shooting up my spine every time her full, pink lips touched mine . She should banish the terror of this night. Should destroy the panic and the horrible images that kept threatening to surface, and with them the sluggish, creeping cold that radiated from my chest and tried to creep into my limbs.

"Let me wipe that color off your face," I said hoarsely as we parted breathlessly. I took the wet cloth from her and she leaned back a little as I gently wiped away the paint. When I was done, she took it from me and did the same thing with the other end of the washcloth on my face.

After we both had nothing more of the “Razuva” on our faces, she got up and went to the bathroom again. Meanwhile, I stripped off my shirt, then my pants, and then slid under the heavy covers to join Arya, who had come back into the room and undressed as well.

I laid my head on my bent arm and then pulled her to my chest. My fingers ran through her silky smooth hair and I kissed her head. "Tell me about “this friend”."

Arya turned and placed her hand and head on my chest. The wolf in me gradually calmed down, but it wasn't enough and my possessiveness was far from satisfied. So I slipped my leg between hers, ran my hand through her hair and cupped her neck.

For a moment I was amazed that she didn't resist this dominant gesture or at least hissed at me a little, but then I saw the tears in her eyes. No matter how angry I was that she put herself in this situation and then told me not to take revenge for her, I would never ignore her tears.

"Hey, I didn't mean to upset you." I pulled her so tight that she was half on top of me.

"We met when we weren't even a year old," she began to say while drawing little lines across my skin that reminded me of the lines on her own skin. It was the first time Arya told me something about her childhood, or her tribe, that had nothing to do with tradition or ritual. And I suspected she had never spoken to anyone about it.

“From the moment we took our first steps we were best friends, inseparable. We grew up together, went through war school together, and ran side by side through the jungle.” Her voice was thick, but I didn't interrupt, listening intently. "I know him almost better than I know myself. He eats too much, pays too little attention to his defense, goes out with every girl in the tribe, and cracks the silliest jokes at the most inopportune times."

"Sounds like a good friend."

A lonely tear rolled down her cheek. "He's like a brother to me."

"I'll get him back for you." I kissed her forehead. "Word of honor."

She looked up at me, her thick lashes matted from the wetness of her tears. "“We”." she corrected, but reached up and planted a gentle kiss on my neck. ““We” will bring him back. “Together”."

My thumb traced the pulse on the back of her neck. So fragile, so very vulnerable. "Sleep now, tomorrow will be a long day." A day full of more potions, intended to break the blood oath and set the prisoner free.

She agreed, then turned around and I pulled her to my chest again and wrapped my arm around her waist. My leg pushed itself between her legs. But despite all the physical contact, the cold, dark shadows snaked through my body and the images that couldn't seem to let me go reappeared.

I was used to the old memories that happened thousands of years ago, found some way to deal with them. But these new, unfamiliar ones caught me off guard. 'Cause it wasn't my brother yelling for me. It wasn't Leav's hazel eyes that stared at me from a deadly emptiness. They were dark brown, with the unmistakable grass-green speckles. It was the female voice, deeply familiar, calling to me in panic. It was the woman who meant everything to me, with the sword hanging over her head and coming down on her with a vengeance. It was her high-pitched scream that haunted me—that one scream I'd heard before tonight.

This time I was on time, but what about the next time?

Arya was a warrior, she would face any battle and insist on participating, on the front lines. But how could I let that? How could I let something like this happen after that night? What if I wasn't there on time? What if I'm late - “again?”

I groaned, rubbing my face, but as soon as I closed my eyes, there were those images again. I heard her screams and my brother's. They just didn't want to stop.

After making sure Arya was crooked, I got out of bed, covered her up and gave her one last kiss before turning, pulling my pants onto the floor and walking out of the room. Something small ripped inside me.

It was the first night since she chose me that I wasn't with her. It was the first night since she came back into my life that I disappeared into the forest, letting my wolf take the lead and trying to shake off the demons that seemed to be stalking me.

Demons that seemed to get worse and worse.

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