Page 112 of Heart of the Rebel Mate

I try to shift back, to slip free of his hold, but he anticipates it, his jaws closing around the scruff of my neck. He wrenches me up and slams me down.

Stars explode behind my eyes.

Ribs crack.

I choke on a pained growl, my vision swimming as he leans in, pressing his muzzle close.

"I'll make this quick," he whispers. "Consider it mercy."

Then his fangs descend for my throat.

No. No. No.

But before his teeth sink in?—

A black blur slams into him with the force of a hurricane.

The impact is sickening, a brutal collision of muscle and fury. My captor is ripped from me, sent skidding across the ground in a tangled mass of claws and snarls.

I suck in a ragged breath, blinking past the haze.

Adrian.

He doesn't hesitate.

He's on the enforcer in an instant, relentless, savage. There's no strategy to his attack—just sheer violence. His fangs tear into flesh, claws raking deep enough to shred through muscle.

The enforcer roars, trying to shake him off, but Adrian doesn't let go.

He sinks his teeth deeper, locking his jaws around the enforcer's throat. A violent wrench.

The sound that follows is wet. Final.

The enforcer crumples.

Blood spills into the dirt, his golden eyes still wide—but lifeless.

Adrian steps back, his massive black form panting, his muzzle drenched in red. His golden eyes find mine, wild and burning.

I try to push up—my limbs tremble.

"Elara," he growls. His voice is raw, barely human. He shifts mid-stride, and suddenly his hands are on me, gripping my shoulders, checking, searching.

Still breathing.

"Yeah," I rasp, wincing as pain pulses through my ribs.

His jaw clenches. His gaze flickers to my bleeding arm, to the claw marks that carve deep into my shoulder. I watch his expression shift—from worry to something darker.

"We need to get you out of here," he mutters.

I shake my head.

The fight's not over.

I look around and observe the chaos on the battlefield; the air is thick with the scent of blood, fur, and burning wood. My muscles scream with exertion, my breath comes in sharp, ragged gasps, but I don't stop moving. I can't. The Council's enforcers push back harder than expected, their ranks still thick despite the bodies littering the ground.

The stronghold looms ahead—so close. We've broken through the outer defenses, but the real battle is inside those walls. We just have to reach it.

---