Page 143 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

He pulled something out of the bag. There was a flash of silver, then a pop.

Pain exploded in Brynleigh’s chest. A mangled scream slipped from her lips. She called for her shadows, but they were gone.

As she fell to the floor, darkness edging her vision, she could’ve sworn she heard Zanri say, “Jelisette said to remind you that rules are rules.”

Brynleigh went to cry out, but nothing worked anymore. Not her shadows or her wings or her magic or her voice.

And then she tumbled into blackness.

Drip, drip, drip.

The sound of something wet smacking rhythmically against the floor pulled Brynleigh out of the emptiness that had become her entire existence.

How long had she been unconscious? A minute? An hour? A day or longer? She wasn’t certain. But Isvana help her, she hurt all over. From her head to her toes, her body felt like it had endured the beating of a lifetime. There was a mortality to her pain that didn’t make sense.

Brynleigh frowned as she struggled to understand what was happening to her. Once again, a thick, heavy fog blanketed her mind. This was becoming an exhausting reoccurrence. She pushed through it, struggling to get back to herself. It was like she was swimming through the Black Sea, the inky waters clouding her vision.

What the fuck was going on?

Instinctively, she reached within herself and searched for her shadows. But they weren’t there.

Gone.

Next, she searched for her magic.

Gone.

Her ability to summon her wings.

Gone.

Stripped away as though they’d never existed.

Had the past six years been a dream? Maybe she would open her eyes and see Sarai leaning over her bed, grinning. Maybe the storm had all been a nightmare. Maybe her family was still alive, and?—

Her tongue brushed against a tooth. A very sharp, very pointed tooth.

A fang.

None of it was a dream. All of it had been real. Which meant…

Her family was dead. Sarai was dead. She was a vampire. And Ryker…

Oh, gods help her. Ryker.

Every single memory smashed through the fog and collided with Brynleigh at once. The Choosing, their wedding, the reception, the hotel room, and then…

Zanri.

Gods-damn him. Brynleigh had guessed he was a feline shifter. Something about the way he carried himself was a tell.

Zanri had shown up, and then… he shot her. He must have had a special gun in the bag his cat carried.

She remembered the bang and then the flash of pain.

Her hands flew to her abdomen, and she felt for a wound. Her stomach was tender to the touch, but there weren’t any open injuries. She was wearing a shirt, though. The material was itchy and unfamiliar. She didn’t have time to worry about that right now because she remembered what happened after

Zanri shot her, and then…

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