Page 161 of Halfblood Deceived

They all traced their gazes, finding a half-alive priest about twenty yards away, dragging himself in the opposite direction from them.

Kerian moved in a blur, lifting the priest off the ground with a clawed hand around the male’s head. “Where do you think you’re going, motherfucker?”

The priest hissed, his half-burned face twisting with rage. “In nómine Patris et Fílii et Spíritus Sancti—”

Kerian growled. “Your god can’t help you now, you bastard.” Then he sank his double fangs into the priest’s neck.

“But the poison!” Zeydan protested.

Priests poisoned their blood with silver to protect their blood memories just as they armored their minds. Some even turned blue with the metal polluting their systems.

“We are already poisoned,” Kamilla said, nose wrinkled. “And we have a high tolerance.”

“Micro dosing?” Mari asked.

Kam swallowed hard. “The opposite, actually.” She didn’t elaborate further, but her haunted gaze said it all. “Our resilience is a secret.”

Aroth bowed his head. “Your secret is safe with me, Princess Davashkov.”

Zeydan dipped his chin at Kam, along with Mari, Andreas, Lex, and Evan. Lex remained in his wolf form, possibly because he didn’t want to end up buck naked in front of the group.

Andreas tried and failed to sit a bit straighter, falling back against Zeydan’s chest. Zeydan tightened his hold around Andreas. This was the closest Zeydan had ever come to hugging the grumpy bastard. And maybe it was the fading shock of the very close call with death, or he was turning sappy in his second century of life, because he felt quite reluctant to let go.

Kerian dropped the dead priest to the ground, shaking his head, eyes closed, and moving under his white eyelids quickly for a moment. When he opened them, there was shock but also dark delight. “They knew Kam and I would intercept them, and this was the team they sent to kill us,” Kerian said as he approached the group again. “And let’s face it, we would have fallen this time.”

“But they didn’t know we had company,” Kamilla guessed, giving Zeydan and all the others a smile.

“Exactly,” Kerian confirmed. “This group was phase one in their plan to invade Darkwood. They knew the other borders were warded and too protected to cross undetected.”

Zeydan cursed. “We need to find a way to anchor lasting wards here. I could try casting my mist. I can usually tell when someone crosses it. We can’t let the fuckers invade our city.”

Kamilla and Kerian gave him surprised but approving looks.

Zeydan had tried not to get attached to Darkwood, but he’d failed epically and he didn’t give a shit anymore. Kerian and Kamilla’s city was more than worth protecting. And he’d help them do it.

“There’s too much terrain to cover,” Mari said. “You’d exhaust yourself having to hold that much mist in one place.”

“Araiah and I could ward it,” Aroth announced, drawing the group’s attention to him.

“I love that idea very much,” Sebastian said, brow furrowed. “But I have to ask, why hadn’t you tried before?”

“But we did,” Aroth answered. “We tried several times, but the curse polluting the very ground devoured even our magic.”

“You tried several times?” Kam asked, surprised.

Aroth shrugged. “We like it here, Princess.” He lifted a hand, shadowy magic wrapping around his fingers. “Now, however…” He cast a spell and many tendrils of darkness exploded from his palm, creating a web-like pattern across the back of the ruins of the church. Dark runes flared at regular intervals and then faded from existence as Aroth banished his magic from sight.

But something lingered.

Zeydan could feel it.

Aroth turned toward Aylana. “Fey power channeled and enhanced by Obscurium runic spells. You are such an intriguing female, Duchess Aylana. Do you think you can burn this entire city to the ground with your power once you recover?”

The halfblood blinked and opened her mouth. Her irritation at not being able to speak was obvious on her lupine face.

“Speak in your mind,” Aroth encouraged. “I can hear you.”

Sebastian launched a warning look at Aroth, his impulse to protect Aylana written on his stiff posture.

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