Page 54 of Dragons' Mate
“She lay frozen in the snow,” Tavias’s magic danced over his scales, his temper rising. “She just needs time. That’s why the priests gave us a week.”
“She might be poisoned,” Cyril said.
“Then she’d be dead,” Tavias snapped.
“Not all poisons kill,” said Quinton.
“You’d know, wouldn’t you.” Tavias grabbed the front of Quinton’s shirt, twisting it. He wanted to fight. Needed to. Quinton understood. “What’s the poison in her, Shadow? Where do we find the antidote? Tell me.”
“Her pulse is slowing,” Cyril said before Quinton could reply.
Tavias released Quinton’s shirt and they both turned to where Cyril crouched beside Kit, his fingers on her neck.
Quinton was at Kit’s side in an instant, his hand flat on her bare chest, his magic trickling into her. Cyril was right. Kit’s pulse was slower now. Too slow to maintain life. And that wasn’t all. On the heels of the erratic rhythm of Kit's weakening heart, her lungs now struggled to draw air. Her body was failing her, each hardship tipping into the next like a string of falling dominos.
Collecting himself, Quinton poured his magic into Kit, taking control of her heart and lungs as he’d done on the Phoenix. Unlike then, when he’d slowed her breath and heart to calm her panic, now he spurred them into action. He made her heart beat, her lungs expand. Again and again and again.
Sweat trickled down Quinton's scales as he fought to keep Kit’s body alive. It was like walking a tightrope – one misstep, and the consequences would be dire. He couldn’t make a misstep. Couldn’t let his attention wane for a moment. He had to keep her heart beating, because nothing else would.
“Quinton.” Whoever said his name sounded far away and Quinton paid them no mind. He couldn’t afford to. With every ounce of power that he pushed into Kit, the darkness seemed to pull her further away by just a hair’s breadth more. It was like trying to hold onto sand that slipped through his fingers no matter how tightly he grasped it.
Kit’s body spasmed, arching in Hauck’s arms.
Not enough. Quinton wasn’t doing enough for her. He had to do more.
“Quinton, you are going to burn out.”
Gathering all of his life force, Quinton channeled it into his mate. The world blurred. The sounds dampened. None of it mattered though because Kit neededmoreand Quinton wasn’t enough.
He wasn’t enough. All his magic, all his training, none of it was enough to overpower the void that sought to claim his mate. The weight of this truth bore into him, cold and unyielding.
“Quinton!” Cyril shook him. “You have to stop.”
“He won’t,” Hauck answered. He must have pulled Cyril off because Quinton no longer felt his brother's hands on his shoulder. “She is his mate. He is not going to let her go.”
“He can’t hold her anymore,” Cyril said, the truth twisting the knife deeper in Quinton’s soul.
“He can if he has help,” Hauck said quietly.
Something about Hauck’s words pierced through Quinton’s haze. He snapped his head up in time to see Hauck bare his canines. In time to understand what his brother intended to do.
“Don’t,” Quintonground out.
“She needs more than what you can offer,” said Hauck. “But maybe not more than both of us can.”
“It will bind your life, Hauck,” Quinton gritted out, pain and anger wrestling within him as he fought a war on two fronts. His mate and his brother. “You mate her, and if she dies… if she dies, you die. Don’t you understand that?”
“I do,” Hauck responded softly, his gaze never wavering from Kit’s face. “For once, I know exactly what I’m doing.” With no further hesitation, Hauck struck, biting Kit’s shoulder.
The moment Hauck's teeth pierced Kit's flesh, her body jolted, the bond between them igniting like a spark catching on dry tinder. Quinton gasped, the overwhelming force of the new connection surging through him. He clenched his jaw, fighting to keep control of his magic and Kit’s heart as the power of Hauck’s life force joined the battle for their mate.
Tavias and Cyril moved together, the twins not bothering with words. They struck with a dragon’s primal drive, each staking their claim on Kit’s flesh—and offering their life in return.
Quinton felt himself swept into the center of a storm, energies swirling around him, battering him from every side. With each additional bond, the weight on Quinton increased, but so did the hope. It was the five of them now, a pack in truth. Power ripped through their shared connection, each strand of magic, every fiber of love and determination, working in tandem to give Kit the strength she needed.
The energy circulating within Kit was palpable. Quinton could feel her there, fighting for herself. Fighting for the pack. And yet… and yet her body remained eerily still, with not a single flutter of an eyelash or twitch of a finger to indicate the consciousness Quinton knew was there.
In his peripheral vision, a glint of the brand on Kit’s forearm caught Quinton’s focus. Beneath the pair of overlapping circles, Kit’s forearm was red and hot, the skin straining against something beneath it. Quinton didn’t know whether his next motion was born of guttural instinct or sudden understanding. His hand moved, unsheathing his blade, its polished surface glinting in the stray beams of sunlight. With one swift cut, Quinton slid the blade across the Kit’s brand, breaking the interlocking circles apart.
