carve out his own heart. The despair was agonizing and fierce, an onslaught so sudden and visceral it knifed through him before he had a chance to stop it.
Fuck you, he snarled and spun around, focusing his gaze on Alice. He felt his soul shatter as the ocean dragged Alice down to its depths, dragging her out of his reach after he'd finally found her again. The curse rose within him, sucking him dangerously down into the pits of despair, but at the same time, Ian focused on the woman: the billowing of her auburn hair in the water, her arms as she fought helplessly, the curve of her spine as she twisted and turned. His woman. His soul mate was in trouble.
Six hundred years of instincts as a Calydon warrior roared to life within him. His need, his commandment, his duty to protect his mate broke the grip of the curse, and raw male determination exploded through him. She cannot die.
With a roar of outrage, Ian launched into action, keeping his entire focus on the woman tumbling toward her death. He allowed no thought other than that she needed him, that he was her only chance for survival. If he died, so would she. Fuck dying. He couldn't die, couldn't kill himself, until his woman was safe.
He slashed his way through the water, moving with a speed that was far beyond human capacity, far beyond what the ocean could stop. He called up six hundred years of training as an Order of the Blade warrior, six centuries of a brutal physical life that had honed his body into a mass of muscle coiled so tightly that it was a weapon unto itself.
He called upon all his preternatural strength and streaked through the water, straight down into the endless depths, focused solely on his woman. He saw her below him, a faint pale outline that wasn't struggling anymore. She was floating helplessly, capitulating to the death hunting her, her body limp except for her left hand, which was clenched in a tight fist, as if she was clutching her greatest treasure just before her final death. Renewed urgency roared through Ian as he swam harder, his body undulating fiercely as he plowed relentlessly toward her. Alice! Wake up!
But she didn't respond. She just continued to drift further away from him. Faster he swam, getting closer and closer… and then he saw a black chasm in the bottom of the ocean, a murky darkness flowing from it.
Jesus. The sight of it was like a jolt to his system. The appearance of the black shadows was exactly what had happened when she'd died before. Demons coming out to steal her soul from her body. "No!" he bellowed. "Back the fuck off!"
He called forth his weapons from the brands on his forearms. With a loud crack and a burst of black light, the steel flanged maces appeared in his hands, their blades glistening even in the deep ocean. He hurled them instantly in a one-two strike that cut through the murky darkness. It parted with a screech of insult, torn apart by the demon magic that empowered Ian's weapons as he called his weapons back to him.
He lunged for Alice, knowing he had only a split second before the deathly essence regrouped and took her. Alice, he commanded, thrusting his order into her mind. Give me your hand. Now.
Her body jerked suddenly, and her eyes opened. She looked right at him, and her eyes widened in shock. The impact of meeting her gaze reverberated through him, stripping the breath from his lungs. Her eyes were still a radiant green that reached right into his core. She hadn't changed.
He had to save her. There was no other option.
Alice. Now. As he said the words, he thrust all the strength he could into their connection, trying to empower her to fight the current trying to take her, infusing his life force into her depleted body, past her mental shields that had fallen with her being so close to death. Don't block me, Alice. Not this time.
Her body jerked, and for a split second, she recoiled from him, fear flashing across her face.
Hellfire, woman! I'm not the one you need to fear. He couldn't keep the snarl out of his voice, the frustration of two months of searching for her, the raw desperation of his need to stop her from dying this time. After having her die in his arms three times, the fourth time was