Page 119 of Heir

“She hasn’t come of age yet,” he said, brushing debris off his black pants as he walked toward where I still lay across Maxar’s body. He removed my flame halo and sharp shards of pain speared my brain.

“Ahh,” I cried, closing my eyes and visualizing pushing him out and slamming down a shield. The pain receded. It was working.

“You have powers,” he said, surprised.

“I am half demon, and also the Queen,” I said, slightly breathless.

“Not for long.” Stepping over to a small table I hadn’t noticed until now, he pulled a sword from a sheath, then walked back toward us. “Do you know what this is?”

“Your dildo?”

Fury flickered back at me in his eyes. “Disgusting child. It is Moloch’s Sacrifice.”

“And I’m supposed to know who that is?”

He scoffed and shook his head. “All the more reason the throne should be mine.” He lifted it high in the air, preparing to behead me. I couldn’t risk Maxar getting hurt any more than he already was, and I wasn’t sure if Drak was even still alive.

No. He was alive. I could feel his energy. Even if we hadn’t bonded, I could still feel our connection. Still feel the pull . . . and also his fear. He wasn’t dead, but he was hurt and scared.

“Zandren!” I cried out, hoping that he’d come to me. That he’d leave Drak, see his mate was in trouble and come to my aid before it was too late. “Help!”

The large sword glinted under the harsh glare of the obnoxious fluorescent lights hanging among the exposed duct work.

Was this really how it ended?

Was this really the finale of my story? This man killed my father and my aunt. Was he going to get the hat trick and finish me off too?

I glared at him, funneling all the anger and loneliness, the fear, and betrayal I’d ever felt in my life into a big ball of fire in my mind. Then I brought in all the other emotions too. The love. The joy. The independence and stability Delia gave me. The unwavering friendship and support from Gemma. The pure and utter devotion of my mates, even though they’d just met me. Zandren’s love and how with him I felt so seen. So known. I was vulnerable with him, and I was vulnerable with so few people. Gemma and Delia were the only two people who had ever seen me cry until three pushy men showed up on my doorstep, telling me I was theirs and they were mine forever.

I hated the idea. But I also kind of loved it.

The ball of fire grew bigger and bigger. Brighter and brighter. I closed my eyes and, with every last ounce of energy and power I had left, I hurled that ball directly at Lerris.

A startled and pained cry made me open my eyes. Lerris was on the ground, halfway across the warehouse. Drak leaned against the wall, bleeding from his leg, and Zandren was . . . I glanced around.

Where was Zandren?

I carefully climbed off Maxar. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “I . . . I think so. I’ll live.”

“Zandren?” I called out. “Where are you?”

“I had to put him out,” Drak said, his voice weak.

I ran to him. “You what?”

“I had to. Or he was going to kill me. I had to . . .” Drak was paler than I’d ever seen him, and he could barely keep his eyes open. “I bit him and then I wrapped the flame rope around his head.”

I took in Drak’s bare head. “Where is he now?”

“He stumbled that way.” He pointed. “I had to put him down. I’m sorry.”

I glanced in the direction Drak pointed, only to see two big bear paws sprawled out behind the pile of pallets and packing plastic. I ran to Zandren and checked to see if he was breathing. He was. Thank god. Then I ran back to Drak.

“What can I do?”

He opened his eyes, just barely. “I need . . . I need to feed.”

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