Page 108 of The Guardian's Curse

When both men were facing each other on the stone floor, Nordan shouted, “Begin!”

Screams erupted amidst the crowd. A body slammed into her, and she felt herself rise in the air amidst a chorus of shouts. Her feet dangled dangerously, and she clung hard to the broad forearm wrapped around her ribs. They landed hard, and the body pulled her back into a dark alcove. Warm lips brushed her ear as a hand covered her mouth. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s your other favorite vampire.”

A broad smile crossed her face. She nodded, and Paris removed his hand. She turned to find his red eyes staring down at her. “I want to help him. Point me at Elliott, and I’ll light him up.”

Paris shook his head emphatically. “If you interfere, the Casteron will retaliate. We’re doing this by their laws so we don’t ignite a war. If he pulls this off, we all walk away clean.”

“And if he loses?”

“We must pray he doesn’t.”

27

Catching that first glimpse of Shoshanna clad in a revealing red dress that revealed most of her body ignited a righteous fury like he’d never felt. He was relieved to see her alive and whole, with no sign of serious injury. But to see her treated like a glittering accessory for that pompous fool infuriated him. Furthermore, even through the cataract-like film on her eyes, he could see the red tint that betrayed the power of Elliott’s blood.

That was his soulmate, chosen for him by destiny itself. This was more than a promise of lust fulfilled, of love returned. He had been given a sacred responsibility to protect her and see that she walked safely through this world. And he had failed once, but no more. Elliott McAvoy would pay for what he had done with his life. If the Casteron tore him to shreds after, so be it.

When the steward gave the order to begin, Alistair hesitated for a split second to let Paris run past him. When he looked up to see Shoshanna’s seat now vacant, he bared his teeth and lunged at Elliott. They tussled in a flurry of blows, bare hands balled into fists. Alistair held nothing back. He unleashed the rage that had simmered in him for nearly a century.

The rage of Franziska stealing his dreams simply to have a plaything that would amuse her forever. The rage of the Shieldsmen igniting a war that would kill hundreds for no reason. The rage of watching everyone he cared for fall to Armina’s curses, bearing punishments for which they more than paid.

And most of all, the rage that he had lost so much of his life to this ugliness. And that this bastard, this fucking fool, would touch what was his.

Though it had been decades since he had fought with the Shroud under Julian’s command, his body had no hesitation. He blocked Elliott’s blows easily, barely even thinking as he shifted and danced around the other man. He feinted and let Elliott in close enough to strike, then threw a bone-cracking punch into his shoulder.

Elliott screamed in pain, eyes brilliant red. “Ruby!” he bellowed.

“She’s gone!” Ruby yelled back.

“You can’t cheat this time,” Alistair snarled. “She belongs to me.”

Elliot bared his teeth and came up, driving something thin and sharp up into his chest. Acidic heat spread from the small puncture, and he looked down to see just an inch of thin wood protruding from his ribs. Then Elliot yanked his hand back, taking the slender stake with him.

Treacherous bastard. Weakness radiated from the wound, and one leg threatened to buckle.

Elliott shouted, “Shoshanna! Answer me!”

Alistair punched him hard, but they both froze and looked up at the sound of her voice. “I’m here.”

“No,” he murmured. Paris was behind her, but his face was blistered, and he was frantically trying to put out the fire on his jacket. “Get her out!”

At that, a pair of vampires grabbed Paris and yanked him back, snarling and fighting. He heard a body thump twice in rapid succession, thrown up to the ceiling before crashing to the floor.

“Do it, Shoshanna!” Elliott ordered. His eyes flared red, and Alistair recognized the pressurized pulse of power.

Her eyes drifted downward. Though her vision was failing, he knew she was looking right at him, the thread connecting them pulsing like a heartbeat. “Alistair?”

The sound of her voice pushed away the pain. “I’m right here,” he said. “No matter what happens, I love you. I know it’s not your fault.”

The tug on his hand was powerful, as if something was trying to pull them together. He could imagine the way she’d described that little thread, looped around his little finger. He wanted to weep at the beauty of that bond, of feeling connected to her so profoundly.

Elliott barked a bitter laugh. “You love her?” Then his eyes widened. “Ruby told me she was fucking the vampire who protected her. You? Disgusting.”

“Think what that says about you if she prefers me,” he replied, baring his teeth.

“Shoshanna!” Elliott yelled again.

“No,” she said in a clear voice. Something vibrated through him, like a plucked string.

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