Devilish Game (Shadow Guild: The Rebel 4)

Terror surged through me, fear like I’d never known. But the stone was heavy in my hand, and the battle raged on. Only I could stop it.

Worried tears pricked my eyes as I raised the stone to the crown, pressing it to the broken section. Panic threatened to eat me whole as magic flared. Like a cool breeze, it whispered through the room. The painted lines in the floor faded, no longer able to conduct Anat’s magic.

One by one, it washed over the red cloaks. They dropped like flies, their bodies turning to dust as their cloaks puddled on the ground. The sound of battle faded.

Frantic, I scrambled down the statue, desperate to get to Grey. As I neared him, I felt it.

The bond.

It surged back into me, our mate bond, so powerful that I nearly collapsed.

Whatever he’d done, he’d reestablished the bond. Tears streamed down my face as I fell the final few feet, landing in a pile at his side.

He lay crumpled on top of the red fabric that had once outfitted a cult member. That bastard had turned to dust, however.

“Grey!” I pulled him over, running my hands over his body and reaching for the pulse at his neck. “Grey! Wake up.”

Tears blurred my vision as I pressed my fingertips to his neck, feeling for a pulse.

Figures fell to their knees beside me, but I paid them no attention. I didn’t even know who they were. I didn’t care.

Finally, I found a pulse. Faint and weak, but there.

I dragged my sleeve over my eyes, wiping away tears and clearing my vision. Grey looked even worse than I’d feared.

His face was so pale he looked dead, and his eyes were closed. Deep shadows hollowed out his face, tearing a hole in my chest.

I looked up. “Someone help him. A healer. Something.”

One of the witches rested her hands on him, a frown stretching across her face. “He’s nearly dead.”

“But not totally. Save him.”

Her gaze flickered up to mine, worry in their depths. “I’ll do what I can, but . . .”

“Just do it.” I gripped his hand, fear and hope crashing around inside me. Our bond roared, the mate connection stronger than ever.

Cursed Mate.

That would be back too, but I’d deal with it when Grey was well.

The unknown witch pressed her hands to his chest. Several more witches beat their way to the front, shoving aside their coven members.

“Non-healers clear out,” Beth shouted.

They did as they were commanded, and more women joined us, pressing their palms flat to Grey. Healing magic glowed golden from their p

alms, flowing into him.

Seraphia joined us, keeping her eyes on Grey. She rested her palm on his forehead, and tiny green plants sprouted up through the broken stone. They leaned toward Grey, seeming to transfer magic from themselves and into him.

I looked up at Seraphia, but she didn’t meet my gaze.

The room was silent as the healers worked. In the distance, I spotted more of them tending to their friends. Grey wasn’t the only one wounded, but he was the worst off.

Every second was an eternity. I wanted to scream my rage and worry to the sky, but I swallowed it down.

Finally, he moved.