“No. She’s not for us. She belongs to Melek,” Gall said stubbornly.
“Except, he’s not here. And she’s—”
The leader’s friend darted out quietly while Gall wasn’t paying attention and leaped towards Yilan.
She saw him coming and gasped, twisting out of his grip, pulling at Gall’s shirt from behind.
He reacted instinctively, whipping that spear around with a cry—and catching the male in the arm, slicing his bicep with the edge of the spearhead that I kept razor-sharp.
The youngling yelped, but he was well-trained—he twisted, and dropped, rolling back to his feet gripping his arm a moment later, but no longer laughing. He was cursing now, bellowing and hissing through his teeth as blood seeped out from under the fingers of the hand he had clapped to the wound.
And just like that, this was no longer a party, but afight.
Twenty young Nephilim, all trained, all bored, all humming with unspent energy, sexual tension, and the instincts of creatures that were told to take what they wanted, when they wanted it.
By God’s mercy, everyone was so surprised that Gall had actually wounded the man, a ripple of shock washed through the crowd. And Gall himself.
His eyes widened and he stared at that blade, now smeared and glistening with his comrade’s blood.
It was the only hesitation. Then they all realized what had happened and all hell broke loose.
The leader roared forward, calling curses on Gall—who swung the weapon, thrusting and stabbing. He screamed at them all to stay back, while Yilan stayed at his back, her face a mask of horror and weariness.
She had no weapon. Not even a blade for eating. And because Gall had been disarmed by the sergeant, apart from my spear he wasn’t carrying any extra weapons she might have taken to help.
And so, she was left with one protector holding a single spear. And no matter his size and training, he lacked the confidence and ruthless nature of those he faced.
As the Neph descended on them with a roar, I tore forward, praying I could intervene quickly enough. But it all happened too fast, while I was still running to reach them.
The Nephilim came at the pair from both sides at once, and even though they were forced to dart back and away in the face of that blade, it was seconds before one of them drew Gall’s attention so he turned, and while he was off-balance, their leader slipped in behind him and grabbed Yilan.
She screamed like a fighting cat, clawing and raining blows—landing one hard enough to make him flinch and let go of her arm.
I was tearing forward, but too late, too late.
I almost tripped when she didn’t even hesitate, but launched herself at the males encircling Gall, screaming at him tostop listening andfight!
But even as she reached the Nephilim trying to disarm him and he roared, swinging the spear to try and fight for her, two got behind him and pulled him off his feet. The leader jumped after her, catching her around the waist, and grabbing her wrist to wrench her arm behind her back. And this time, even when she fought, he didn’t let her go.
His comrades rushed Gall, disarmed him and held him back. Their leader spat something ugly aboutfemale vesselsand used brute force to haul her off her feet, turning her to catch her flailing arms.
“Settle,bitch,or this will hurt more than it has to,” he snarled.
Bringing his superior weight and strength to bear, he whipped her around, pulling both her arms back mercilessly and locking her wrists with one of his hands, while he plunged the other down the front of her shirt and gripped her breast.
There was a surge among the males watching.
Gall roared, screaming her name when she shrieked and twisted, trying to free herself. But the leader held her so tightly and threw her down with such force, her arm twisted grotesquely, her shoulder flexing in a direction it was never designed to do.
She screamed in pain and fell under him.
He was on her in a moment, panting and calling for Gall to watch, that he’d show him how to make a baby, and calling for the others to come taste a Fetch.
The crowd sucked in around them just as I burst into the clearing with a roar. Heart pounding, I bellowed the only thing I could think of to make them stop.
“UNHAND WHAT IS MINE, YOU FUCKINGWORM!”
19.It is Done