The Abyss (Fae's Captive #7) - Lily Archer Page 0,2

maw, and I bite down harder as he yells and shoves a blade into my side. I barely feel it. Rage and anguish war inside me, but the pull to my mate is stronger than even my desire for vengeance. I can feel her fading, and I may already be too late.

When I hear Cenet’s neck crack, I release him, then turn to find her on the ground, her eyes open and staring at the sky above. I won’t let her go. I can’t. I race to her side, my feral form reacting far faster than anything I could’ve managed before. Her blood soaks the air and spills from her throat. I put my head back and roar, the sound nothing short of pure longing and grief.

Her lips are moving, but I can’t make out the words. It doesn’t matter. She can tell me once I’ve healed her. I summon my small drop of green magic and feel it hum through my veins. It seems bolder now, somehow fuller, as if my feral form enhances the healing ability. I lick her wound, my tongue scraping along her soft skin as I tend to her. It should seem strange, but somehow in this form, licking her wounds is exactly what I need to do. So I lap at her, tasting the tang of her blood as I clean the wound and watch it sealing. Her eyes close, and her breathing evens out. She no longer whispers some secret word.

Her blood loss can’t be undone, but I can heal her. She will make it. I have to believe it. I put every bit of love into the green glow and push my magic into her. When it’s gone, I settle next to her, my ears attuned for any nearby threats. The city is a cacophony, and slavers dash past, fear in every step. None approach us, though. They’re too busy running for their lives.

My chin on my paws, I watch Beth. Waiting for her to come back to me. She will. She has to. She is my beloved.

“You’re a cat.” She turns her head toward me, her cheeks still too pale for my liking.

I lick her face and nuzzle her neck.

She wraps her arms around me, and I purr softly as I inspect her for any more wounds. She smells fine, her wild scent heightened to me now, showing me every facet of her. I have the distinct desire to roll over and coat my fur with her delicious smell.

“You saved me, beautiful cat.” She kisses my ear, her lips soft, and my purr intensifies. “So warm and fluffy.” Burying her face in my neck, she inhales. Nearby, a host of slaves fan out from the garden, each of them wielding some sort of club or blade. They give us a wide berth. Wise.

Beth looks up at the flames engulfing Lord Zatran’s mansion. “We should probably go.”

She tries to sit up. I use one of my big paws—careful to keep my claws sheathed—to push her back down. My side aches from Cenet’s blade, but it’s already healing. Beth, though, needs to take it easy.

“Really? Going to baby me like I’m your fluffy kitten?” She scratches the top of my head, and my eyes close from the sheer pleasure. “You’re a big, golden, sweetheart, aren’t you?”

I lick her cheek, and she laughs.

The hackles along my back rise when I think of how close I came to never hearing that sound again.

“Shh. Big kitty.” She smooths down the spiky fur. “It’s okay. I’m pretty sure no one is going to bother me when I’ve got you here. But we should go and find Silmaran. She needs you. Maybe others do, too.”

I chuff out a breath. They aren’t my concern. Nothing matters except my mate. Keeping her safe is my duty. I failed her. I won’t let it happen again.

Footsteps behind us have me turning and growling.

Parnon lumbers up, his sandy skin stained with blood. He grunts at my flicking tail, then speaks to Beth, “Chastain and Silmaran are back at the house. She’s still hurt bad. Can you help?”

A slaver rushes by, his face familiar.

Beth points. “Hey, that guy is evil. He threatened to grind me up and use me to make perfume and—”

I bare my teeth, but Parnon reaches out, snatches the high fae and punches him so hard in the face that Beth shudders. Then he drops the fae like a broken toy.

Parnon shrugs. “I fight.”

“So you said.” Beth stares at the