hips. “When you do try to kill me, at least muster the courage to look me in the eye.”
“Good God,” a voice chimed in, though not the one Tobias expected.
Kaleo pointed at the Prince, glancing between Drake and Tobias. “This one, he bores me. I think we’ve heard enough, yes?”
Without confirmation, he reached in front of the Prince, grabbed a fistful of ribbon, and pulled.
A gust of air burst through the tunnel, and the Prince lurched backward, an arrow lodged in his chest. For a split second he stood frozen, gaping in horror at the arrow shaft before collapsing.
Tobias lunged forward, catching the Prince before he landed amid a slew of ribbons. Adrenaline spiked through him; he glanced across the thicket of red, then at the man in his arms.
The Lord painted with blood.
Tobias’s heartbeat turned violent, hammering against his ribs. This was a mistake, except it felt necessary for whatever reason. With a grunt, he linked his arms with the Prince’s and tried to hoist him upright, but the man remained limp.
“Brother.” He shook the Prince. “Can you stand?”
The Prince’s head rolled on his shoulders. His eyes fluttered open, panning down to the arrow lodged between his pec and shoulder. “Shit.”
“Can you stand? I can’t carry you and still navigate these ribbons.”
The Prince sucked in a breath and cringed, reducing his intake to shallow pants. “I can stand.”
“Good.” Tobias wrapped an arm around him. “On the count of three. One…two…”
Tobias heaved the man to his feet, sending him howling.
“For fuck’s sake!”
“Pain can motivate. Use it as fuel to move forward.” He flung the Prince’s arm around his shoulders. “Lean on me.”
The Prince winced. “Goddammit.”
“Work your legs,” Tobias said. “Leave me in charge of the rest.”
The Prince nodded weakly, while Tobias studied the path ahead. Drake and Kaleo had long since disappeared, but their absence was of little comfort, as the ribbons around him had turned daunting. He scanned the silk, searching for the quickest path to take, then spotted a gaping hole looming above a stretch of ribbon.
“Take a step. A large one. Right foot first.”
The Prince obeyed, albeit barely. He tottered over the ribbon, his legs hardly functional, and Tobias cringed when his foot almost grazed the silk. Soon it was Tobias’s turn, and he proceeded with painstaking exactness, as each subtle move sent the Prince lurching in his grasp. Finally both men cleared the ribbon, and Tobias let out a sigh of relief.
“Very good. We’re almost there.”
That was a lie; the path was short, but with the Prince at his side it felt long and forbidding. They shuffled through the maze, nearly toppling over once, twice. Tobias tried to focus on multiple tasks—on his methodical movements, on his new, unforeseen burden—but with each step the journey became more grueling, the man on his shoulders the most cumbersome weight he had ever carried. He bent their bodies around a ribbon stretched like a drawn blade—like a pain in his ass—and the Prince growled through gritted teeth, barely keeping pace.
Tobias stopped to catch his breath, his body slick with sweat. The Prince’s eyes were half-open, his chest covered in blood, and each second in that tunnel left him heavier, weaker. No more stopping. This had to be the last time. Tobias eyed the course frantically, studying all possible routes before settling on one—the quickest path to the sanctuary, blocked by a tangled mess of ribbons.
“Apologies. This will hurt.”
He forced them both forward, steering their bodies like a cart. The Prince howled, his wound spilling red, but Tobias kept going. Everything within him threatened to break, but with each pang of weakness he worked faster, harder, until he burst free from the ribbons and into the sanctuary.
Tobias took in a much-needed breath. “We’re done, brother. You can relax.” He glanced over the sanctuary and glowered. “Will one of you stupid fucks help us?”
The other men were sprinkled across the space, staring at him curiously. Finally there was assistance—the Hunter tried to pry the Prince from Tobias’s shoulders while the Physician rambled about his skills—and before he surrendered the man to their care, he caught sight of a woman in a black cloak.
The Healer.
Tobias shoved through the throng of men, dropping to his knees once he reached her and laying the Prince out at her feet. “Help him. Now.”
The woman crouched beside the Prince, her hands darting across his chest. Suddenly she stopped short, looking Tobias in the eye. “He’s your competition…yet you saved his life.” She furrowed her brow. “Why?”