Andrea drew a breath. “What the hell? The worst that can happen is I look like a fool.”
She wrapped both hands around the hilt and lifted the sword. She pointed the blade into the air and said, “Find Sean.”
The sword jerked to the right, nearly impaling Ronan, who jumped out of the way just in time. The blade dragged Andrea’s arms around before the sword sliced through the air with a white-hot light.
“Glory.”
Sean’s whisper sounded loud, even to himself. Glory’s answer was a soft groan. She was dying.
“I need to apologize,” Sean murmured to her. “For what I have to do.”
Glory’s eye cracked open. “Kick his ass, Sean.”
For a Feline to kill a Lupine pack leader was against all protocol and Shifter law. Shifter species traditionally despised each other, but they’d made it a policy to avoid fighting each other rather than wipe each other out. They’d have all died out long ago if they hadn’t.
Then again, if a Lupine was a clear danger to a Feline pride, then he was fair game. Glory’s words meant she would be witness to this, her offer tantamount to the pack’s acceptance of the kill.
The question might be academic, however. Sean wasn’t in position to kick anyone’s ass, Lupine or otherwise. His entire body was a mass of pain right now, and strength was a vague memory.
But he had to get them out of here and back to Shiftertown. Glory needed medical attention, and the Goddess only knew what Callum’s Felines were doing to Andrea—not to mention Liam, Dylan, Connor, and Kim. If Callum were daft enough to make a pact with the Fae, Shifters were screwed. The Fae were strong, treacherous, and deadly. They’d happily wipe out or enslave all Shifters and not worry too much about it.
Heartless, cold bastards. And stupid, stupid Callum.
Sean closed his eyes and directed all his remaining energy into shifting to his wildcat.
He spent the next ten minutes gasping in blinding pain. Shifting itself shot agony into his body, coupled with the pain of his wounds and the torture from his Collar. This is what I get for being compassionate. I should have let Andrea rip out Callum’s heart when she had the chance.
Andrea. Hell. Sean was supposed to be her great protector, and now here he was, weaponless, weak, and in too much pain to get himself free to help her.
Wade claimed he didn’t have a phone, so Sean needed to find out where Wade had stashed whatever vehicle had gotten them out here and go for help. That is, if Sean could get himself up off the floor.
Wade walked toward him but stayed out of reach. “Don’t try it, Sean. Or you’ll watch Glory die.”
Sean hauled himself to his feet and shook out his mane. It hurt to do it, but mane-shaking always looked intimidating. Sure enough, Wade took a step back.
Roaring was out of the question. Sean could barely draw a breath, could barely even see. He settled for a harsh rumble in his throat that seemed more threatening than it was.“Seriously, Sean.” Wade put his booted foot on Glory’s bare side. “I’ll kill her.”
Glory, with the last of her strength, grabbed Wade’s foot and shoved upward. She was too weak to do much, but Wade lost his balance, and that gave Sean his opening. He sprang.
Gravity worked to Sean’s advantage. He was able to shove Wade to the ground and land on him, using his weight to hold him down. But Sean grew dizzier as Wade struggled, and he knew he’d pass out if he made much more effort. Glory tried to crawl toward the cave mouth, but she’d moved only a foot or so before she collapsed.
Wade started to shift, wolf claws digging into Sean’s side. Wade’s Collar went off, but even with that, Wade was stronger and more rested than Sean. The wolf would kill Sean and Glory both and claim that they’d died of their wounds.
Andrea. Sean’s consciousness started to drift. Love you.
“Sean?”
He heard her voice, the sweetest music. Sean pictured Andrea’s gray eyes that had looked at him so saucily that first night at the bus station, the black ringlets of hair he liked to catch between his lips. He loved every curve of her body, her red lips, her tender and skilled hands that liked to explore him. Sean liked her wolf too, the noble Lupine with Andrea’s cool gaze.
There was no finer woman than Andrea Gray, and she belonged to Sean.
“Sean!”
A white light blinded him. Damn, wasn’t it enough that Wade had them cowed without the man beaming light in his eyes?
A stench went with it, a cross between smoke and mint. Cold wind blasted through the cave, and suddenly it was filled with people. Sean could scent them: the acrid mint odor he’d come to associate with the Fae, the rather ripe smell of a pissed-off bear, the scent of his own father, and the cool honey tones of his mate.
Andrea.
Sean opened his eyes. At the same moment, Dylan reached down and hauled Wade, half shifted, to his feet.
Dylan’s eyes were white-hot with rage. His Collar sparked, but Dylan, the best trained of them all against the Collars, wouldn’t feel it. Behind Dylan, the tall Fae drew a sword.
Wade gibbered in terror. “I was keeping them safe. I was keeping them safe!”
“Lying shithead,” Glory whispered.
Sean let out his breath and turned his head to inhale the goodness of Andrea. She dropped the Sword of the Guardian and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in Sean’s mane.
“I found you,” she sobbed. “Sean, my mate. I found you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE