Page 73 of Finn
I waited for him to lunge, then sidestepped and drove my elbow into his spine.
He howled in pain but twisted, grabbing me by the throat and slamming me into a tree.
Stars exploded in my vision, but I clawed at his arm, driving my knee into his stomach.
Jasper stumbled back and reached for a knife in his belt.
I didn’t waste a second. I grabbed a rock from the ground and smashed it into his head.
He went down hard, and I didn’t give him the chance to get back up.
I grabbed his knife and drove it through his heart. Jasper didn’t get up again. I turned, my chest heaving, and sprinted after Finn.
But when I reached the clearing, my blood ran cold. Gael stood there, his knife pressed to Finn’s throat.
“Take another step,” he said, his voice calm and deadly, “and I’ll paint the ground with his blood.”
I stilled. Gael laughed, then his eyes locked onto the mark on Finn’s neck.
“You fool,” he sneered, his voice dripping with triumph. “You actually did it. You gave your little hunter your mark. You made this far too easy, Gabriel. Once I end him, that mark will do the rest. You’ll die right alongside him.”
I gritted my teeth, the weight of my mistake crashing down on me. No, marking Finn as mine wasn’t a mistake.
I tightened my grip on the stolen knife, the hilt digging into my palm.
Finn’s gaze flicked to mine, wide with fear but fierce with defiance. His silent plea screamed at me:Don’t do anything reckless.
Gael saw the tension in my stance and smirked.
“Oh, come on now. Put that down before you hurt yourself,” he said, his tone mocking.
The knife in his hand pressed a fraction deeper against Finn’s throat, just enough to draw a thin line of crimson.
“Stop!” I snarled, my voice raw with desperation.
My vision tunneled, focused entirely on Finn. I couldn’t lose him. Not like this, not to Gael.
Finn shook his head minutely, his lips forming the faintest whisper. “Don’t.”
But what choice did I have? Gael had all the power, and he knew it.
I ground my teeth, my fingers aching with how tightly I gripped the knife.
Slowly, painfully, I lowered my hand and set the blade on the ground.
“There’s a good boy,” Gael taunted, his grin widening as he relaxed his stance slightly, though the knife remained at Finn’s throat. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
My mind raced, every instinct screaming for a way out, a weakness in his hold, a distraction. Anything.
Finn’s eyes met mine again, and in them, I saw not fear for himself, but for me. That look broke something inside me.
Gael turned his attention back to Finn. “You know, I expected more fight out of you, little hunter. But maybe that’s what happens when you let a vampire claim you—you get soft.”
Finn’s jaw tightened, his anger simmering beneath the surface.
“You talk too much,” Finn bit out, defiance burning in his tone despite the blade against his skin.
Gael’s smirk faltered for a split second, and I heard a whistle from behind me. Another’s hunter warning.
