Knight Awakened (Circle of Seven #1) (32 page)

“Do it,” Garren said, throwing Xavian a dark look.

With a curse, Tareek unwound the gold links from around his fists. Afina sucked in a desperate breath. Then another. Xavian breathed with her, willing air into her lungs. As the red gemstone left her skin, she gasped and pitched forward. Her hands hit the ground. Xavian surged toward her, needing to touch her so badly his fingertips throbbed.

Blue scales flashed in the low light. The spiked tail slammed into the ground then dragged, taking his feet out from under him. Xavian hit the turf shoulders first. The air in his lungs vanished, and he rolled onto his knees, struggling to breathe.

“Cruz, now.” Garren glanced away from him toward Afina.

The sound of a bow being drawn snapped the dragon’s head around. Wood whistled through the air. Catching the arrow shaft between his teeth, Garren snapped it like a toothpick.

Henrik notched another and pulled the bowstring tight. “Stay away from her.”

The dragon eyed Henrik then his bow. “If you value your boy, Xavian, tell him to back off. We are bound to you and no other.”

“Bound to...
Rahat
...” Xavian’s chest spasmed as his lungs inflated. Eyes watering, he tried to make sense of the blue bastard’s words. They couldn’t be bound to him. He held no natural ties to the dragons. Other than the stories told by his father, he knew naught about them. But the fact Garren hadn’t killed him—hell, after all the fighting he’d come out with naught more than a bruise or two. “What—”

White light flashed in his periphery. It lit up the night sky and sent shock waves through him. His hands flexing around his sword hilts, Xavian pushed to his feet, trying to see through the glow.

“Relax, warrior,” Garren said, putting his big body between him and Afina. “She but frees Cruz. Allow her to complete the spell.”

“H!”

“Go!” Henrik pivoted and loosed an arrow.

Garren cursed and turned his head to meet his friend’s volley.

With no way around the beast, Xavian went at him head-on. Arms and legs pumping, he took the high road, planted his foot on the dragon’s knee and launched himself up and over. He rotated full circle, the spikes along Garren’s spine mere inches from his head. Coming over the other side, he sighted the ground and took a deep breath. He landed and rolled, commanding his legs to support his weight as he cycled onto his feet.

Lightning cracked across the sky. Green scales shimmered and Afina murmured, her voice echoing like thunder across the flatlands to the cliffs. Another flash, a rush of air then a cracking pop. The snap rippled, flattening the grass like the sweep of a hand.

Xavian slowed as the light faded. Good Christ. The green dragon was gone. In his place stood a lad with black hair. With
eyes almost as dark, the boy stared at Afina. Astonishment on his face, he sank to his knees before her.

“Priestess...” Tears in his eyes, the lad held out shaking hands, palms to the ground. He turned them over as though he’d never see them before and looked back at Afina. “The pain, Priestess...it’s gone.”

Dropping the medallion, Afina reached out to cup Cruz’s cheek. “You are free.”

“Get your hands off her,” Xavian snarled from six feet away.

’Twas an unreasonable demand. The lad wasn’t touching her—’twas the other way around—but the distinction was lost on Xavian. Something territorial had taken hold, snaking through him like poison. Afina belonged to him. No one—neither man nor beast—was permitted to touch her.

Baring his teeth, Xavian raised his swords. Cruz scrambled, backing away so fast his heels left divots in the grass. Garren growled behind him. Blades ready, Xavian spun, planting himself in front of Afina.

“Xavian...” Afina rasped behind him. “It’s all right. I’m all right.”

The words were meant to reassure him. They only drew Xavian tighter. She was anything but
all right
. He could hear the truth in her voice. Tareek had hurt her. Whatever they were forcing her to do with the medallions was killing her. No matter what she said, he wouldn’t allow them near her again.

Tipping his chin down, he rotated the blades in his hands. As he met Garren’s gaze, he growled a warning.

“Hristo, Garren.” Tareek circled around to his left. “He’s lost it.”

“Can you blame him? We threaten his female.” Like a sidewinder, Garren’s head shifted right. His clawed feet followed, crossing one over the other.

“No. Please, d-don’t hurt him, Garren,” Afina whispered. Xavian heard rustling and knew she was trying to get up. “He d-doesn’t understand. Let m-me—”

“S-shh, Priestess,” Tareek said, his tone as untrustworthy as the rest of him.

Xavian held his ground, refusing to take the bait when Tareek slithered from view. He caught a flash of red hair in his peripheral vision. The bastard was trying to draw him away from Afina. Garren wanted a shot at her. That wasn’t going to happen. Not as long as he had breath in his body.

“Warrior...” Using his torso to shield it, Garren cranked his hind claw back. “Catch.”

He expected a fireball. What he got was a face full of Henrik.

Tossed like a stone, Henrik tumbled through the air. Widening his stance, Xavian dropped his shoulder then his sword tips to avoid slicing his friend. Henrik hit him like a runaway horse. The blow knocked him off his feet, and they went down in a tangle of arms and legs. Xavian landed on the bottom, taking the brunt of the fall. It took him an instant to realize his friend wasn’t moving.

He shoved at Henrik. His friend rolled, head bobbing as his back touched the ground. Xavian sucked in a quick breath. Blood was everywhere: covering half of Henrik’s face, matting his hair, pooling in the hollow at the base of his throat. An ache roared to life in the center of his chest. Jesu, they’d killed his brother. The beasts had—

A flash lit up the night sky. The glow spread, obliterating the stars as the sound of snapping bones exploded across the field.

Years of training dragged Xavian to his feet. Securing his weapons, he pivoted, searching for Afina. He found her halfway across the clearing, on her feet now, a medallion dangled
from her fingertips. A strange man stood beside her. Dark hair streaked with blue, he rolled his shoulders, tipped his head back, and snarled at the night sky.

The sound hit Xavian like a battering ram, propelling him forward. The man’s head snapped around and violet eyes narrowed on him. Garren. Even in human form, he recognized the bastard.

Six feet from his target, Xavian growled, “Back the hell away from her.”

“Sheath your weapons, warrior. We are no longer a threat...” Fists cranked in tight, Garren stared at him from beneath dark brows. “And you cannot catch her with your hands full.”

Afina swayed on her feet. Dark eyelashes flickering, her head lolled on her shoulders. Xavian cursed and, with a flip, stowed one blade as she listed sideways. Garren stepped away and let her fall, his gaze locked on Xavian. She hit the ground before he reached her, gold chain rattling in her lax hand.

Xavian’s heart fractured inside his chest. “Nay...nay. Afina!”

Whispering her name over and over, he knelt beside her. She lay like a broken doll: ashen skin, limbs askew, lips blue...barely breathing. Xavian dropped his sword to free both hands and gathered her to his chest. Clutching her, he pressed his mouth to her temple, her cheek, her mouth.

“
Draga
, come back.” He stroked her hair, rocking her in his arms. “Please, come back to me.”

She didn’t move.

He went numb inside. She was dying and so was he. A quiver started soul deep then spread until Xavian felt himself grow cold. ’Twas his fault she lay lifeless in a barren field. ’Twas his fault she would never open her eyes again and see the light of day.

Agony tumbled into despair, and after each painful thump of his heart he cursed it. He wanted it to stop beating. But it defied his will, kept beating until the only thing left inside him was fury: a soul-deep rage that turned everything black. A violent shudder racked him as Xavian pressed his cheek to hers. He whispered against her soft skin, apologizing, asking for forgiveness, saying good-bye all in the same tortured breath.

Kissing her one last time, he set her down with gentle hands. Naught mattered anymore. Naught except revenge.

He met Garren’s gaze over Afina’s supine body. Tears in his eyes, he palmed his weapon and stood. A life for a life. The whoreson would lose his to pay for Afina’s. But first, Xavian was going to rip the bastard’s face off his skull.

Xavian struck with force, slamming his fist into Garren’s temple. The delivery was perfect. The bastard’s head snapped to the side. Blood welled from a gash beside his eyebrow as Garren reset his stance and blocked a left hook. Xavian countered with an uppercut.
Rahat
, it felt good to hit the whoreson. Each strike drove him further into himself, away from the grief, away from the agony of losing Afina.

He caught a glimpse of her as he pivoted. Lifeless, she lay in the grass, her hair a dark stain on muted green. His heart cracked then fell apart as pain rippled through him. He would make the bastard pay. Would rip him apart with his bare hands. Using a blade wasn’t personal enough. ’Twould be too quick. He wanted to get bloody on this one.

Xavian’s feet skimmed over the grass. He threw a quick jab. The points of his knuckles grazed Garren’s cheekbone.

“Tell me, warrior,” Garren said, hands moving like quicksilver, deflecting the next strike. “Is taking my life worth your mate’s?”

Xavian bared his teeth in answer.

Keeping his guard high, he planted one foot and kicked with the other. His boot connected with Garren’s rib cage. The whoreson grunted, tucked his elbow in tight, and twisted sideways to avoid the next blow.

Too late. Xavian was already moving through the opening in his defense.

He grabbed Garren by the throat. Pressing his thumb beneath the sharp edge of the bastard’s jawbone, he forced his head back. With one clean kick, Xavian took his feet from beneath him and slammed his back into the ground.

Victory a moment away, he planted his knee on his opponent’s chest. Before Xavian wrapped his hand around his throat, Garren grabbed the leather edge of his tunic and heaved. His strength combined with a quick turn tossed Xavian up and over him. He landed shoulder first and, rolling to his feet, reset his stance.

“Clever move, dragon.”

“Like your opinion means shit.” Garren raised his guard and dropped his right foot, preparing for another round. “And I’m as human as you are,
fratele
.”

“I am not your brother,” Xavian said, denying any connection between them. Human, his arse. Aye, he might look the part at the moment, but Garren wasn’t a man. He’d seen him, scales and all. “The only one I claim you killed.”

Violet eyes glittering, Garren’s gaze shifted to Afina. “She suffers without you.”

Xavian’s heart clenched and the pain he fought to suppress surged. Like a disease, it spread, eating him from the inside out. It made his skin shrink until his bones felt too big for his body. He itched to rip it off, but naught would ease the awful ache. Afina was gone, and naught he did would bring her back.

“She is already dead.”

“Not dead...just weak.”

Moisture gathered in the corners of Xavian’s eyes, blurring his vision. “You lie.”

“I would not.” The blue streaks of hair at his temples rippled as Garren shook his head and stepped back. After a moment he dropped his fists, leaving himself open to attack. “I am bound to you by blood oath and parchment. This is sacred to our kind and cannot be broken. I kill her...I hurt you. This I would never willingly do, Xavian.”

Unable to prevent it, hope welled then poured through him. His gaze strayed to Afina. His heart picked up a beat then another. His fingers curled, betraying his need to touch her—to discover if Garren spoke true.

“Go.” Backing away, Garren gave Xavian room to reach her. “I will not interfere. You have my word.”

His chest heaving, he studied Garren. The bastard was clever. He’d proven it time and again. What if he was playing him—giving him all the rope he needed to hang himself? If he turned his back to help Afina, would the whoreson attack?

Xavian swallowed, realizing it didn’t matter. Wily trick or nay, he couldn’t risk her dying if the smallest chance of her living existed. He ached to see her smile again. To have her hale and whole.

He backed up a step then another until he stood over her. His eyes burned as he knelt and pushed his arms beneath her back. Her head lolled on her shoulders. He sat back and pulled her into his lap. Dampness and chill sank through his leather trews. He settled on his arse anyway, hardly aware of the discomfort, and curled himself around her.

“Afina. Breathe, love.” He stroked her hair, hands shaking. “Please...take a breath,
draga
.”

Naught happened.

He nestled his cheek against hers. Kissed the corner of her mouth. Caressed her back, the curve of her hip, the top of her thigh.
Setting his lips against her pulse point, he hugged her close, the pain inside him unbearable. “Her heart isn’t beating.”

“It is...faintly,” Garren said from somewhere nearby.

Xavian looked up to find him six feet away. Cruz stood behind him, concern in his dark eyes. Ignoring them both, he tucked her head beneath his chin and rocked her gently. Where was the current—the one he’d felt in the brambles when he’d helped her the first time?

“I cannot feel it, Garren. I cannot—”

“Close your eyes and listen, warrior. You will hear it.” Planting his elbows on his knees, the man-dragon solidified his crouch. “You are a bonded male...she is an echo in your blood.”

Xavian hesitated. True, Garren was keeping his word. But that didn’t mean he would for much longer. The bastard might attack the instant he lost sight of him. Giving him that advantage was foolhardy. But then, what choice did he have? Afina needed him.

He closed his eyes.

A quiet throb echoed through the back of his mind. His brow puckered, Xavian held his breath and listened harder. The faint beat sounded again. He counted the moments between them then exhaled in a rush. Though barely there, the soft thumps were quickening, coming one after the other.