Page 79 of Of Daggers and Deceit

I ripped my daggers out of my suit, my cuffs still unresponsive to me, and I whirled on Silver with a snarl that rivalled an Alpha’s.

I could see annoyance light up Silver’s face as I faced him, treating me as if I was a simple hindrance. Good. I had his attention at least, and I would kill him for what he’d done.

He sized me up, a hint of curiosity dancing across his face, as if he looked forward to what was to come.

I went to portal behind his back to catch him by surprise and end his life quickly, but he was far quicker than I anticipated as he launched forward to grab my hand, taking us both crashing to the ground on top of each other, materialising near Raid, who had picked my mum up off the ground.

I didn’t want them touching her. Could an omega not even find peace in death?

Inside, grief consumed me, and it was pain, not hope, that now pushed me onward.

Silver launched at me, and I parried him off with my two other daggers as he managed to slice his blade thinly through my upper arm. I glanced down at the wound then back up at him, my teeth bared in annoyance. He ran his tongue along his teeth, smug satisfaction wafting off him as he stared at the first glimpse of weakness in me. My grip on my blades tightened.

Then, he attacked relentlessly.

I felt lethargy begin to set in with every block, my moves becoming sluggish as he managed to land a few other stinging blows to my body.

Cheek, forearm, thigh, shoulder.

The sting of each was agonisingly painful for how tiny the cuts were.

“Do you give up, little one?” he mocked as we continued to dance in a series of blows.

He was a graceful, effortless fighter, I’d give him that.

I was starting to pant, heavily exerting myself to keep up with the pace of his brutality. His skill and level of training clearly surpassed my own, and I struggled to keep up with what he delivered.

My muscles began to roar at me in fatigue, begging me to stop, the effects of using too much power draining me.

I resigned myself to the fact that this was a battle I was not going to win, a decision I despised. I looked longingly behind him. I wasn’t going to make it.

In a parting manoeuvre, I launched one of my daggers towards him as I swung with the other hand, travelling mid-movement back near the gateway to re-assess and lock eyes on my mum’s body. By the time I’d landed, he caught my weapon effortlessly, Raid stepping up beside him as I watched Silver touch my mother on the arm. She stirred.

My body turned rigid.

She was alive?

“We will give you one more week, Raya. Then, you will hand yourself over willingly if you ever want to see your mother again,” Jakari called as he stood with his arms crossed behind his back, all of them lacking the same urgency and desperation our defence fought with.

I focused on willing my cuffs to shape into the daggers I needed, but nothing happened. I growled angrily, and Jakari laughed cruelly.

I ripped my last dagger from my suit, the ground rumbling beneath my feet, a reminder my time was running out, just as two arms wrapped around me and dragged me quickly back through the gateway.

Jakari snarled as Silver launched my blade back towards me. I screamed for my Mum as I was pulled back through to the Haven, the shield’s magic closing over.

Tears fell from my eyes as every ounce of hope left my body, watching the doorway disappear, the grunt of pain behind me the only sign that Silver’s dagger had hit a target.

We fell backwards, my head hitting the shifter’s chest as I rolled off them, sprinting back towards the doorway, my fingers gripping the closing hole to fight against the inevitable. I yanked my hand back, the magic of our barrier burning my skin as I screamed out in agony.

“Raya, stop.” A hoarse voice called my name, coughing following as I turned towards it, tears streaming down my face.

Bodhi lay on the ground, blood all over his hands, more of it leaking from his mouth.

I cried out and ran for him as he pulled the blade from his chest, more blood spilling from the wound. I hadn’t noticed it was him. I hadn’t paid attention in my anger.

He coughed again, and I went to put my hands on his chest to stop the bleeding, but he batted my hand away, his own shaky fingers moving up to cover the wound.

I looked at his face, so tight with pain—not the kind that came from physical pain, but something far deeper as he stared at me. Something more akin to betrayal.

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