“I’m not afraid,” he promised her. “Everyone, no matter how good they are, can be taken to the edge of darkness. Pain has a way of doing that. But you’ll never cross that line, Niamh. It’s not who you are.”
“You’re so sure?”
“I know dark when I see it. You’re not it.”
A groan of agony caused the hair to rise on the back of Kiyo’s neck, and he and Niamh jerked toward Conall, who had fallen to one knee, his hand clutching his chest. His eyes flew to Meghan, whose whole being seemed to crackle with electricity.
Something like fear for Conall flooded him, and he crossed the room to protect him just as the silvery gray weapon appeared in the witch’s hand.
A dagger.
An iron dagger.
His gaze flew back to Niamh, who seemed momentarily paralyzed with shock at the sudden turn of events.
The dagger flew across the room, crackling with magic as it headed directly toward Niamh’s heart.
A roar of outrage escaped him as he sped back toward Niamh, a blur of movement as he threw himself in front of her. Pain blazed through his chest, taking his feet out from under him.
The iron dagger was embedded in his heart.* * *Niamh gaped in horror at the sight of Kiyo falling to the floor with the dagger lodged in his chest. Fury at the witch and at herself for stalling burned within her as she felt her eyes bleed gold.
Meghan paled but reached out a hand toward Conall, the magic sparking the air as she tried to use him as her coven had used Ronan.
As Niamh moved toward Meghan, Conall bellowed at Niamh to see to Kiyo just as Conall transformed into a black wolf. He lunged at the witch. Stunned, Niamh could only stare for a second. She had never seen a wolf transform that fast before. As his wide jaw opened, his sharp teeth glittering in the dull light of the apartment, Niamh fell to her knees to help Kiyo.
She flinched, feeling somewhat sick at the sound of Conall tearing apart their foe, screaming in torment. Niamh ignored it and turned Kiyo gently onto his back.
He hissed, his handsome face contorted with pain. “Just … yank … it out.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded.
Trusting him, Niamh conjured thick gloves to cover her hands. She then wrapped them around the dagger’s hilt and shuddered as a feeling of utter lethargy crawled through her. Fighting the sensation, she gave the dagger an abrupt, quick jerk.
Kiyo convulsed, falling to his side to vomit up blood.
“Kiyo!” she cried in fright. Perhaps being immortal didn’t mean he couldn’t be killed like her. Maybe it was just a spell of long life, not invincibility. “The dagger.” Her hands shook as she brought it to her wrist. “My blood can heal you.”
He turned with a fierce abruptness that surprised her, wrapping his hand around her wrist that held the dagger. His lips and chin were smeared with blood. “Don’t,” he choked out. “I’m healing, I’m healing. Don’t.”
Reassured he would be okay, Niamh discarded the dagger and the gloves, using her magic to send them away from her.
“He’s all right?” The deep voice brought her head from studying Kiyo whose color was returning by the second.
Niamh stared at the huge werewolf that towered over them and almost blushed. He was naked. Her eyes moved behind him to where his clothes were tattered across the room. Her gaze snagged on a limp female hand.
“Dinnae look.” Conall caught her chin and pulled her head up gently to meet his eyes. “I’m afraid the pain she inflicted caused me to lose control over the wolf for a few moments.” Remorse flickered across his face.
Niamh gave him a sympathetic look. “It’s okay. You did what you had to do to protect us.”
He nodded grimly, and Niamh became all too aware again of his nakedness.
Lucky, lucky Thea.
However, sensing Thea wouldn’t be happy at the thought of her mate flaunting his rather impressively beautiful body in front of another female, Niamh flourished a hand in his direction and clothed him.
He jerked in surprise to find himself fully outfitted in a T-shirt, jeans, and boots that fit perfectly. He threw Niamh a bemused look.
“Sorry. Should have warned you,” Niamh said wryly.
Conall let out a weary, bitter laugh.
Niamh didn’t know him well, but she could tell he was extremely upset about Meghan.
“I’m sorry,” she said and then looked at Kiyo as he pulled himself up to sit. Guilt irritated her. When she’d left, Kiyo had obviously contacted Bran or Fionn who had put him in touch with Conall. With the alpha’s tracking gift, it was no wonder Kiyo had found her so quickly. “I’m sorry for putting you both in this position.”
“It’s my job,” Kiyo reminded her.
She glanced down at the slice in his shirt.
He’d thrown himself in front of her to save her life.