Page 66 of Enticing Monsters

Relief slams into me, almost staggering in its intensity.

“Tristan?” I ask, when the wolf shifter remains silent.

He simply lets out an agonized groan and flops off of us and onto his back, his legs and arms sprawled in every direction. Blood mats his reddish-brown hair to his forehead and trickles down his cheek.

“Trist!” Kian jumps to his feet and immediately runs towards his fallen cousin.

Tristan waves him away with a negligent flick of his wrist.

“I’m fine,” he assures us, sitting upright and cracking his neck. “I think I broke every bone in my body. But other than that? I’m good.”

Now that I know my three mates are okay, I can assess the situation.

Tristan and Foster are both hurt, though not horribly.

And someone just exploded the library wall.

We’re under attack.

The errant thought bursts to life in my subconscious, and suddenly, it’s the only thing I can focus on.

Who the hell is it?

Did someone follow us here?

I jump onto the balls of my feet and squint at the collapsed wall. It’s hard to see through all of the dirt and dust blowing in every direction.

A piece of my heart aches at the sight of so many destroyed books—so much knowledge…lost. How could someone do such a thing? At least the stained-glass window survived the blast. For some reason, I feel as if it’s important. Immensely so. Yet I can’t put my finger on why…

Something moves just beyond the now demolished wall.

“Stay with Foster and Tristan,” I direct Kian, already stalking towards the threat.

“We’re coming with you,” Foster tells me stubbornly, and Kian and Tristan both nod in agreement.

The fire elemental struggles to his feet—favoring his right leg heavily—but manages not to topple over. Even still, he sways precariously from side to side and clutches at a wound on his thigh.

I want to protest and demand he stay behind, but I see nothing but sheer determination and steadfast resilience on his face. He doesn’t want me to face this threat alone, and I know that if the situations were reversed, I would do the same thing for him and the others, regardless of any injuries I may have sustained.

I don’t ever want to be relegated to the sidelines, so I won’t do that to my mates. They know their bodies and their capabilities. If they think they’re able to fight, then I’ll trust their judgment and stand by their side.

I give all three men a curt nod. “If any of you die, I’ll find a way to bring you back to life just to kill you all over again. Painfully. And with a variety of weapons.”

Kian, who’s helping Tristan to his feet, manages a weak smile. “Kinky.”

Pebbles and destroyed books crunch underneath my feet as I move towards the gaping hole in the wall. Outside, I can see a rapidly darkening sky, a stain of purplish gray over a splotchy violet canvas.

The moment my foot touches the grass, something tackles me from the side. I roll my body at the same time and jab at the attacker with my blade. I don’t have a good angle, but right now, it doesn’t matter. I just need to get the person off of me first and foremost. Then, I can worry about killing him or her.

A fist collides with my cheek, sending waves of white-hot agony spiraling through me.

Motherfucker.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” the attacker hisses in a deceptively high-pitched, feminine voice.

Those are fighting words if I ever heard them.

I arch my neck and headbutt her as hard as I can. She releases a cry of pain and instinctively lifts her hands to cup her broken nose. I use her momentary lapse of concentration to my advantage and roll us over so she’s now on the ground with me straddling her. I hold my blade to her throat.

---