Page 119 of Stroke of Shadows

“Guardian,” Gideon rumbled, disappearing with a static pop.

Harper’s breath caught, her head snapping as she searched for him in the room. Many of the candles had extinguished, leaving only a little light.

Sythe snarled, moving around until he found Gideon lifting Wyatt up by his hair. He made sure she was behind him, turning his side every time he moved. She gripped his fur, peering around.

Wyatt struggled, blood pumping from his throat. Gideon held up the chalice, catching the blood in the cup.

“Wait!” Harper shouted. “Don’t!”

Gideon lifted the chalice to Wyatt’s lips, forcing him to take a sip of his own blood. Thick steam rose from the cup, sickly sweet in scent. It settled over Wyatt’s skin, turning his skin a sickly blue. For everything he’d done, she still couldn’t stand to see her cousin die.

Sythe howled, and another returned the sound.

“It’s done,” Gideon said, dropping Wyatt at his feet. His body seemed to crumple, skin sinking against his bones as if paper. The steam continued to flow across his body, and it took a second to realise it was returning to the chalice.

Sythe tensed beneath her palm, his body moving faster than she could track as he pressed her to the ground and moved to stand over her. Harper covered her head as debris shot around them, stinging against her side.

“There’s a party and I’m not invited?” a man snarled. His head tilted, horns that were similar to Gideon’s separating his jet black hair. His wings, which were held tight against his back, flicked out.

“Xahen.” Gideon laughed, clutching the chalice. “It’s time you stopped this tantrum and joined me.”

The new man snarled, his hand clenched on a great sword almost the size of him. Dark red flames erupted from his fist, searing up the metal. Rage vibrated his muscles, but as he swung the sword, Gideon disappeared with a smirk. “Fuck!”

Fur pressed against her back, crushing her to the floor.

“What the fuck Sy? He was right there!” The man dropped his angry gaze, softening when they met hers. “Shit.”

Sythe growled, just a low vibration that she felt against her back. She tried to move, only to feel skin rather than fur. Sythe scrambled back, holding his hands with his palms out.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice deeper than usual and edged with a rumble.

Harper didn’t hesitate, throwing herself at him as much as her strength could muster. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tears burning down her cheeks. His arms went to encircle her before he hissed.

“Fuck, Starlight. Your back.”

She’d forgotten about the cuts, the adrenaline starting to wear off.

“Here.”

The guy with the wings and horns stepped closer, and Harper flinched. He’d ripped his shirt off, holding out the fabric.

Sythe draped it over her back. It stung, but at least it covered her. Harper didn’t protest when Sythe lifted her in his arms, conscious of where he held her. Her muscles trembled, teeth clattering.

“She’s going into shock,” the man said, his horns slipping beneath his hair and wings disappearing between his shoulder blades. His skin was bare, a shade darker than Sythe’s and showed similar tattoos that marked Sythe. Excluding the roses.

Harper remained silent, Sythe’s steps lulling her to sleep.

“Hang on there, Starlight. I need you to stay awake, okay?” His voice was strained. “You hear me?”

“Sy, she’s lost a lot of blood. She needs to get to a hospital right now or she’ll die. Let me take her.”

Sythe tightened his hold, only relaxing when she moaned.

“Please, you need to trust me. I can get her there in seconds.”

She felt Sythe’s heartbeat against her cheek, rapid in his panic. “She’s a Drenic, okay Luce? Please, I’ve only just found her. Don’t let the Fates take her away. I can’t—”

“I’ll protect her with my life.”

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