Unmade (Unborn #4) - Amber Lynn Natusch Page 0,12

There was no mistaking his intentions anymore. That sacrificial act said more about the Dark One than a lifetime of dissecting his words ever could. He cared for me, even if he would never admit that aloud. His interest was not entirely selfish. He wanted me to live for me, not for himself.

He had put my life above his own.

“Kaine will pay for what he has done,” I said, anger coursing through me once again.

“I’m pretty sure he’s giving his boys the same pep talk right about now—before they storm the Underworld looking for you.”

“But my brothers are there—”

“Then we’d better go get them.”

“You need to rest and heal,” I said, pointing to the bed. “You stay here. I will go get them now.”

His hand clamped down on my wrist. “Like I said a minute ago, you’re not going anywhere without me.”

“And you are not going anywhere in this shape. You will only get yourself killed. I, however, will not.”

“Too bad we can’t summon them like the fucking messenger god.”

“If only the Underworld had cell service…”

At my remark, he smiled. The sight of it was more glorious than I remembered. “Never hurts to try. I would, but I’m pretty sure Kaine smashed my phone before he chained me up.”

My expression tightened. “Then I shall punish him for that as well.”

The air between us grew thicker, and I walked over to the bed and pulled back the sheets.

“Want to finish what we started in the spotted house?” he asked with a quirk of his bruised brow.

“I want you to lie down and be silent. I need a partner to help me bring down those who hunt me, and you cannot do so in your current state.”

He walked over, hovering next to me and the bed. “Maybe you could ‘love’ me back to health like Kierson did for Aery…”

“I am not a nymph of the Underworld,” I said, pushing him away, “and you do not wish for me to love you.”

“You’re right,” he said, sitting down on the bed’s edge. “You’re not a nymph of the Underworld, and you’re not going anywhere until I can go with you.”

He lay back against the down mattress and closed his eyes. Moments later, he was so dead to the world that I found myself leaning over to feel his breath on my cheek. His exhaustion was so complete that I could not understand how he had functioned as well as he had upon his return to Earth. I would have collapsed the second my feet hit the ground. But that was the mystery of Oz.

His strength and determination knew no bounds.

I moved to walk away, but once again, his hand clamped down around my wrist. Even in his slumber, he would not let me leave, as though he could sense my plan before I could even execute it.

His pinched features relaxed slightly as I brushed a stray hair off his face.

“All is well, Oz,” I whispered, stroking his cheek one last time, though it was not necessary. “Rest now. We will bring the world to its knees when you wake.”

His hand fell away from my arm.

Minutes ticked away slowly as I stood next to the bed, unmoving, wanting to make sure he was sleeping deeply enough for me to do what I had planned. I had not wanted to lie to him. It had felt strange and wrong. But I needed to get word to my brothers, and that could not wait until he woke.

His wrath would be epic if I did not return—unharmed—before then.

4

Wind whipped my face as I raced toward the gates of the Underworld. Time was of the essence; lives depended on my warning. I could not help but wonder if, in saving Oz, I had doomed my father, my brothers, and anyone else Kaine might harm to get back at me for what I had done. My actions in the in-between had been brash and un-weighed—all reaction without thought of consequences.

And those consequences would surely be dire.

As my destination came into view, so too did an unexpected and unfamiliar sight. Lurking near the entrance was a figure I did not recognize, but as I grew closer, something about him called to me, as though I knew him innately. I landed with plenty of distance between us.

I did not wish to walk into an ambush.

The large male stared, eyes as black as Casey’s, a hint of a smile on his face as he assessed me. A thrum of familiarity hummed through my