by us, all low to the ground like the guard didn’t want to kill us, but immobilize us.
Shutting off my mind, numbing the pain in my leg, Warwick and I trudged through. Branches and thorns sliced at my exposed arms and torso, my heart thumping madly to keep up with my blood loss and pain, hoping adrenaline would keep me going. Warwick tried to clear the path, taking the brunt, his hand constantly reaching back for me, pulling me along.
Sweat trickled down my back, huffing as I tried to bite back my whimpers. Gunshots, cries, and shouts discharged through the night sounding like a messed-up symphony. The chorus of death, the notes they cried out, grew more distant the farther we ventured into the park.
Warwick’s hand went back, stopping us, his head jerking around.
“What?”
He held up his finger, and then I heard a crack of branches.
“It’s not just the guards out here who want to kill us,” he muttered. “Fae have filled this area with large game for their leader to hunt. But what is hunted also hunts. The game will gladly eat any of the escaped prisoners.”
“Great.” I peered behind me and stiffened at the sound of another snap of foliage rustling in the distance.
Animal? Guard?
“Farkas, I know you’re out here. I can hear your heart beating. And I can see in the dark,” a woman’s stern voice called out. “You will be found. Don’t do this.”
“Don’t make this harder for yourself,” a man shouted right after her. “You had it good. Don’t destroy that.”
Warwick silently moved in front of me, his frame pressing into mine, pushing us back into a hedge. He gripped my arms, taking the pressure off my hurt leg. As his frame engulfed mine, he blocked out all light.
My lungs contracted as his scent curled around me once again, his bare chest rubbing against mine, blotting out all my thoughts.
“Don’t think for a moment you are safe with him, Kovacs,” another male guard yelled out. “You’d be better off coming with us now. He’s not who you think he is.”
As a trained soldier, I understood their tactics. They were playing with my head, trying to create doubt, but I already believed I was not safe with him. Especially given the way my body reacted to his. His erection cut through his thin pants, burning into my stomach. My thighs twitched with need. The desire to open for him and feel him sink deep into me rocked headily through my core.
His gaze shot to me, the pristine ocean color turning stormy as if he could feel my need. His nose flared, his hands sliding slowly down to my elbows, his touch oddly fierce and soft. Everything about him felt like yin and yang. Conflicting. Challenging.
Life.
Death.
His stare scorched so strongly into me, I dropped mine, which was even dumber. My vision seized on the tattoos inking his ripped stomach, his chest knocking against mine, the outline of his cock pressing into me, the tip of it almost pushing out of the top of his pants.
Fuck.
No, seriously…fuck.
Really, Brex? Right now?
But as if the world outside no longer mattered, the feel of his skin on mine cut a craving through me. The back of my neck tingled as the guard’s footsteps got closer, spinning my head with adrenaline. Everything was peaked. Danger. Fear. Life. Death. They all came together in a tempest.
“They’re close.” The woman spoke to her comrades.
“Normally, Yulia, you can pinpoint from yards away,” a man retorted.
“I know. Something’s messing with my senses tonight. There are a lot of animals and fae moving around out here tonight, maybe that’s why,” the woman, Yulia, replied.
“Comes in handy not having an aura sometimes. Harder to get a reading on.” Warwick rumbled into my ear, my eyes popping up to him.
“I’m going to shift.” The girl spoke again. “Cover me.”
Warwick’s form went rigid, his fingers pressing painfully into my arms, yanking me out of my stupor. He leaned down, his mouth sweeping across my ear, “We need to run. Yulia’s an owl-shifter. She will find us in seconds.” His deep voice sent shivers down my spine. “Can you run?”
I nodded. I had no choice. Owls had the best night vision and hearing of all the animals and could locate prey at a half-mile. Perfect for hunting.
“One.”
A squawk screeched through the air.
“Two.” His lips skimmed my earlobe.
Wings flapped as the owl soared into the sky.
“Three.” In a blink, he peeled away from me. My body registered the loss like a drug