She abruptly drew back. “Don’t order me like I’m a steak.”
More banging and thunderous shouting spread from below and he growled. “Stubborn female, I’m trying to protect you!” He caught her shoulders and pushed her back into the bed. “Do you know what you are to me?” his voice broke as he understood then in that moment exactly what she was. She was his anchor, holding him to this life and a purpose, but also his greatest weakness.
His vision blurred as he stared down at her, so delicately human with only a questionable percentage of immortal blood in her veins. “I need you, Destiny. I need you to stay safe and whole and with me, do you understand.”
Something in her dark stare softened and she cupped her palm to his jaw. “I love you, too, Cain.”
He pressed his forehead to hers, and the walls shook as something crashed hard into the house below. He was needed elsewhere, but loathed to leave her side, terrified to leave her unprotected for even a moment.
“Go,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I promise I won’t move.”
Relieved by her agreement, he forced himself to let her go. “I’ll be quick.”
He kissed her and rushed downstairs, following the crush of male voices through the safe house toward the holding cells where Cybil was. His heart hammered as he worried something might be wrong when the men shouted and another screamed.
He raced down the dark corridor, spotting a mob of males. Cybil screamed and shook the bars of her cell hard enough to send plaster falling to the floor.
“What’s going on?”
“Cain, stay back!” Eleazar yelled.
Cain jerked to a halt and looked at Cybil. Her eyes flashed, and she bared her fangs at him as tension exploded in the air. She clung to the bars, hanging and shaking them like a caged animal.
“He’s going to kill her,” the witch taunted. “They’re going to kill all of you.”
“Shut your mouth,” Cain snapped, and the witch laughed.
A loud bang cut through the chaos as a shotgun went off.
Cybil stilled and the men rushed into the adjacent cell. She dropped from the bars, and tipped her head back, all the tension leaving her body at once.
The men rushed out of the neighboring cell and quickly bolted the lock. An awful snarl ripped from the bleeding animal on the floor. Not an animal. A male, filthy with blood and mud and leaves tangled in his hair. Rabid, the beast twisted and snapped, foam forming in its beard. It was then Cain recognized the male as his long lost uncle.
Isaiah sprung to his feet, landing in a crouch, prepared to lunge at the bars, but suddenly stilled. Eyes shut, he lifted his chin and scented the air. A rumbling purr emitted from his chest as he bared his fangs, his neck slowly twisting until he looked at the wall separating him from Cybil’s cell.
She also stared at the wall with blood-red eyes. Did she know this was the creature that killed her mother? Did she recognize him? Did she remember?
Isaiah panted and stared at the wall, blood staining one fang, with his eyes so darkly red they appeared black.
“You’re all going to die, and I’m going to watch,” the witch promised.
No one paid her any mind. The men watched Isaiah, but Cain’s attention remained on Cybil. She stepped closer to the wall, her narrow fingers curling around the bars as she closed her eyes and breathed deep, as if scenting the beast in the next cell.
She pressed her cheek to the stone wall, her body loose and her youthful face serene. Her fragmented mind permanently disturbed.
Her lips curved with a malevolent grin as her chin lowered and her blood-red eyes opened. Cain’s breath held as something unmistakably intentional flashed in her focused stare, alerting him that she was still in there. Then she spoke his name, “Isaaaaiahhhhhh.”
TO BE CONTINUED
