Page 31 of Mirror of Vanity

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

My gaze turned razor-sharp as I pulled back on my arrow, the bowstring taut beneath my fingers. Strangely, my rose tattoo wasn’t burning. It remained oddly cool against my skin. If this was truly dangerous, my tattoo should have practically been melting my arm with intense heat.

Garrick stood before me, his stance unwavering as he unleashed his sword, the blade gleaming in the light.

I stepped to the side, my heart pounding. I was about to release my arrow when something stirred inside me, a gut feeling warning me not to shoot.

As the swirling dust cloud neared, I realized it wasn’t a tornado at all. Someone was running at an incredible, superhuman speed, their movements sending the dust flying in their wake.

“Garrick!” an angry male voice bellowed, the sound echoing across the space between us, dripping with hatred and the promise of revenge.

I briefly questioned whether I was imagining it, but there was no mistaking that familiar tone. It sounded like Justice. Confused and unsure if this was some kind of trick, I lowered my weapon.

The dust cloud parted, revealing a figure moving with supernatural speed. It was Justice, but he looked nothing like the man I had traveled through time with from Edinburgh. He emerged like a dark angel, an avenging force fixated on Garrick, his tattered pants and half-naked torso a testament to the battles he had faced. Mud and dirt smeared his handsome face, while bruises and vicious, bloody scratches marred his skin.

My heart shattered at the sight of him, and a lump formed in my throat. I ached to run into his arms, to feel his warmth and reassure myself he was really here. Yet his wild, feral expression kept me rooted to the spot.

He was a man on the edge, a rabid animal ready to strike. The air crackled with tension, his gaze never wavering from Garrick. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The Justice I knew, the man I had grown to care for, seemed lost in fury.

Questions raced through my mind. What had happened to him, and how did he find us? All I could do was watch, my heart breaking with every passing second, as the two men faced off, their destinies intertwined.

Garrick’s men, their faces twisted with determination, unleashed their swords in a flash of gleaming metal. They charged forward, ready to cut Justice down where he stood. Their footsteps pounded the ground like a thundering herd.

“No!” I screamed. The word tore from my throat, a plea and a prayer all at once.

Justice seemed oblivious to the impending danger, his focus solely on Garrick. With a speed and strength that defied belief, he tore through the attacking men, knocking them aside as if they were toy soldiers. Their bodies flew, crumpling to the ground in a tangle of limbs and groans of pain.

In a heartbeat, Justice closed the distance. His hand shot out to grip Garrick’s throat and lift him with ease, his fingers tightening like a vice. Garrick’s face turned a bright, alarming shade of red as he gasped for air, his hands clawing at Justice’s wrist in a futile attempt to break free.

“Did you touch her?” Justice growled, each word dripping with barely contained rage.

Garrick’s eyes bulged, and his lips turned blue. He managed to choke out a single word. “No.”

Fear and adrenaline coursed through my veins as I raced to Justice’s side, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst from my chest. I clasped his arm. My fingers dug into his skin as I tried to break through his haze of anger.

“He didn’t touch me,” I pleaded, my voice trembling with emotion. “Please, put him down before his guards get to you.”

The moments stretched out, each second feeling like an eternity as I held my breath, waiting to see if Justice would heed my words. The air crackled with tension, the only sounds the gasps and groans of the fallen men and Garrick’s ragged breathing as he fought for air.

I tightened my grip on Justice’s arm, silently begging him to come back to me. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, not like this. Not when we had come so far and endured so much. My heart ached with the weight of all the unspoken words between us.

Justice’s grip around Garrick’s neck loosened, and the Unseelie king crumpled to the ground, coughing and sputtering as he gasped for air. Tears streamed down his reddened face, leaving trails through the dirt and grime caking his skin. “Lower your weapons,” Garrick managed to gasp, his voice hoarse and strained.

Before I could blink, Justice’s strong hands gripped my shoulders. His worried gaze roamed me, searching for any sign of injury or distress. The intensity in his dark brown eyes took my breath away. Concern, relief, and something deeper I couldn’t quite name.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ve been looking for you day and night. Ever since I got into this cursed world.”

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as I raised a hand to cup his rugged cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin and the scrape of his stubble against my palm. I stared into his eyes, losing myself in their depths, trying to convey all the things I couldn’t put into words.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly. “Really, I am.”

Without warning, Justice pulled me into his embrace, his strong arms wrapping around me like a protective cocoon. I melted into his chest, my cheek pressed against the steady thrum of his heartbeat. His scent filled my senses, and a wave of emotion crashed over me.

All I could think about was that he was alive, he was here, holding me in his arms. The rest of the world fell away, and for a moment, nothing else mattered.

Someone cleared their throat. “Are you done?”

Justice’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Garrick. “You’re pushing your luck, Garrick,” he growled.

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