He hesitated, his fangs inches from Jackson’s throat. The hunter’s eyes were wide with terror, his body trembling under Gael’s grip.
“Why not?” Gael growled, his voice low and guttural. “He’d kill you without a second thought.”
He actually hesitated, because I told him not to kill Jackson? I was stunned.
I struggled to push myself upright, biting back a groan as pain shot through my leg.
Honestly, I didn’t have an answer to his question, because he was right. These hunters would dispose of me without a second thought.
“I…” I faltered.
Gael’s eyes flicked to me, and for a heartbeat, something softened in his expression.
“They won’t stop,” Gael said, his voice quieter now. “They’ll come for you again. Hunt you down like an animal. I’m speaking from personal experience.”
The room spun, the blood loss catching up with me. My vision blurred.
The last thing I saw before I slipped into unconsciousness was Gael’s face, twisted with something raw and unguarded.
And Marcus coming at him with a knife.
Gael bared his fangs at Marcus, putting himself between me and the other hunter. He looked every inch the monster they feared.
And yet, as darkness claimed me, I couldn’t shake the memory of how he didn’t hesitate to save me.
The contradiction of it all, of him, was a weight I didn’t know how to carry.
GAEL
The moment Asher collapsed, his body crumpling to the cold concrete floor, a surge of white-hot rage ignited within me.
I’d seen plenty of humans die, seen their bodies broken and lifeless at my feet. It never mattered. They never mattered.
But this was different.
Asher’s body lay still, his face pale, his leg soaked in blood.
My fangs throbbed with fury, my vision narrowing to sharp points of red.
I didn’t think, no, I felt, and what I felt was pure, vicious anger.
The hunter with the knife screamed as he rushed at me, blind with desperation and terror.
Pathetic. His fear rolled off him in waves, acrid and sharp.
My grip on the other hunter loosened, and he slumped to the ground, barely conscious.
I turned my full attention to the one still fighting.
He wasn’t even worth the effort, but Asher’s blood pooling beneath him screamed for vengeance.
My lip curled. Fine. No more hesitation. No more half-measures. If Asher was hurt because I held back, then I was done playing nice.
The knife-wielding hunter lunged, the blade glinting in the dim warehouse light.
I slipped past him effortlessly, my movements fluid, predatory. His knife swiped through empty air.
He barely had time to realize his mistake.
