Page 111 of Primal Bonds

And then Kane slunk out of the shadows.

Chapter 34

Evie crouched over Jace, instinctively trying to protect him as the tall, hard-eyed shifter—Corban—closed them into the darkness with Tyrus again.

Jace groaned. She ran her hands over him, furious tears pricking her eyes. What kind of coward kicked a man when he was down?

And what did Tyrus mean, Jace might not last the day? Icy shards pierced her chest.

No fucking way. She was not going to let Jace die.

She squeezed his hand. “You’re going to be all right—I promise.”

He muttered something unintelligible.

“Jace? Can you hear me?”

This time he didn’t even answer. Her fear spiked.

To her left, Tyrus rustled and she guessed he was sitting down. All she could see were his eyes, a strange blue-black glow in the gloom. Better than that terrifying red, but not much.

Gradually, her eyes grew accustomed to the dark and she could make out Tyrus’s outline. He’d settled onto his coat, his back against the wall. Jace’s quartz was suspended from his fingers, a weak green light at its heart.

If Jace had his quartz, he could heal himself. She had to get it back.

Black tendrils teased at her arms and face, but Tyrus seemed tired. The sun was fully up now—this must be when he slept. She slapped at them, but her hands went right through them. Then the tendrils brushed over her breasts.

Oh, no. Hell, no.

She sat on the floor with a thump and crossed her arms over her chest. “No sex,” she rasped. “That’s not part of the deal.”

“No? Not even if I tell you I can heal the fada?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a healer in my clan.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding.”

“A fae can’t lie, Evie.” A cold smile curled his mouth. “Of course, a healer knows precisely the right places to cause pain, too.”

The tendrils snaked past her. Jace jerked and then whined, the sound of a hurt animal.

Evie’s heart clenched. “Stop it!” She lunged at Tyrus, only to realize too that that was what he’d wanted.

Strong hands clamped on her arms, forcing her to her knees between Tyrus’s thighs. She tried to strike at him, but he simply tightened his grip.

Her fingers curled helplessly at her sides, but she raised her chin and snapped, “Get your fucking hands off me.”

He trailed cool fingers down her throat, teasing her breasts above the bra. She shuddered and jerked back.

“Should I hurt him again?” A soft, malevolent murmur.

She briefly closed her eyes—and surrendered. “You heal him first,” she gritted. “Or I’ll—I’ll—” She stuttered to a halt, because she hadn’t a clue of what to threaten him with.

“Or you’ll what?” Tyrus nuzzled her ear. “Fight me, Evie.”

Her spine went rigid. Run, her brain screamed, but he had her trapped.

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