Scorched by Darkness (Eternal Mates #18) - Felicity Heaton Page 0,115

erupted in his side, hurled his free hand out and sent all the clones around him flying. His gaze scoured the bleak land, his heart racing. Mackenzie. Where was she? He grunted as fire burned through him, had sweat breaking out on his brow as he tried to find her.

A black snarl tore from him when he spotted her.

Spotted the mage.

Darkness poured through Hartt as he teleported, was swift to consume him as he leaped out of the other side of it. He swept his sword upwards, another growl pealing from his lips as it slammed into the dagger the male had aimed at Mackenzie and knocked it flying. He pivoted on his heel and brought his sword down, but rather than cutting through the black-haired mage, his blade sliced across the chest of a clone.

He cursed in the elf tongue and twisted his blade, beheaded the wretch and snarled as he looked for the mage.

More clones came at him, closing in to obscure his view. He fought to hold back the darkness as he battled them, awareness of Mackenzie’s pain driving him towards the abyss as a black need to protect her flooded him. He clung to that awareness, to the fact she was bleeding and needed him to keep his head. If he lost himself to the darkness, he would leave her behind, would be engulfed by a need to fight and wouldn’t be able to stop himself from cutting through the enemy.

He swept around in a fast arc and cut straight through the waist of the final clone, breathed hard as he stilled and searched for more. No. Mackenzie needed him. He reined in the need to hunt for another foe to kill, focused not on the battlefield but on his mate instead.

She sagged to the snowy ground, her rasping breaths and the fear he could feel in her cutting at him.

“Mackenzie.” He dropped to his knees before her, eyes darting over her, sickness brewing inside him when the wet on her thigh caught the moonlight and taunted him. She was bleeding out, weakening right before his eyes, her strength ravaged by whatever the fire was he could feel running through her. He growled. “Hold on.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond. He gently pulled her onto her feet and scooped her up into his arms and teleported.

He landed near Rosalind, so close she shrieked. In a heartbeat, a blade was against his throat, forcing his chin up. He had to still to stop himself from being cut on it. His eyes edged towards Vail where he had appeared beside him.

Awareness and recognition dawned in his prince’s corrupted black-to-violet eyes.

Those eyes fell to the precious cargo Hartt held as Mackenzie moaned and shuddered.

Vail moved his blade away from Hartt’s throat and Rosalind rushed forwards, her blue eyes wide as she ran them over Mackenzie.

“What happened?” Rosalind glanced at him.

His heart laboured so fast that he feared it might stop, knew that it would if he lost Mackenzie. There would be no point in going on without her.

“The mage. He stabbed her with a blade. Obsidian I think.” He couldn’t be sure though, had caught only a glimpse of it before the bastard had fled, forcing Hartt to deal with his clones so he could take care of Mackenzie.

“Set her down.” Rosalind waved her hand and a thick pile of dark furs appeared on the icy ground.

Hartt did as she wanted but didn’t move away from Mackenzie, remained kneeling beside her as Rosalind eased down onto hers on the other side of his mate. She closed her eyes and held her hands out over the spot where the blade had pierced his ki’ara and he held his breath as he waited, desperate to hear her verdict.

It seemed like an eternity before Rosalind finally opened her eyes and looked at him, silver stars dancing among the blue of her irises.

“I can reverse this spell.”

“Thank the gods,” he muttered, and sagged as all the tension flooded from him. He leaned over Mackenzie, smoothed her red hair from her damp forehead and pressed a kiss to it. “Rest easy, my love. Rosalind will take care of you.”

Mackenzie weakly lifted her hand and clutched his wrist, stopping him from moving as her fiery golden eyes sought his. “No. I can come. I can fight.”

Hartt shook his head. He wouldn’t hear of it.

He gently removed her hand from his and looked at Rosalind and then Vail. “Keep her here, no matter what.”

Vail nodded

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