Page 7 of Her Blood Revenge

Looks that could kill.

And screams.

‘Can you just use your dream dust on her and make this stop?!’ I call over her cries. ‘Every fucking night, we get this. It’s driving me mad.’

‘She made me swear that I wouldn’t,’ Shaw argues back. ‘It’s the only thing she’s asked of me. No dream walking.’

‘Fuck that. Just do it, Shaw!’ I shrug angrily, failing to see why he would give a damn when she’s out of it on booze anyway. I can smell the fae wine from here. ‘It’s not like we’ve got a track record of doing what she wants us to do, and she’s so drunk she’ll never know. Go in there, put her in your meadow and leave.’

‘I won’t give her another reason to hate me, Arch.’

‘Great. Let’s just watch her scream in terror and claw at her throat. That sounds like a great alternative.’

He glares at me, breathing in slow and deep as he fights the rage he has built inside.

Shaw loses his grip on her arm. We all wince when it slams into the bedpost, and the sound of her bone snapping echoes through the room. She sobs and rolls in pain, still utterly out of it.

I would be, too, if I had drank that much fae wine.

Shaw steps back, shaking his head. He can’t take it. I know he can’t because neither can I. It’s a strange sense of frustration and guilt we all share. After all, we did this to her. Inflicted her with the memories of the murders we carried out on her mother and aunts.

Every night, she hangs. She’s crushed. She’s cut.

Over and over.

The spell we made her do forced her to endure the deaths of Neve and her two sisters. And it haunts her every day. I step forward, kicking a bottle of wine as I pass it, and charge towards the bed.

‘WAKE UP!’

I slap her. My palm stings as I strike because I don’t hold back. Her lip splits, yet she still screams. I’m slammed by a dark shadow and get tossed away from her, hitting the doorframe with a painful thud.

‘Lay hands on her again, Archie,’ Dorian growls, ‘I’ll rip your fucking hands off and shove them down your throat.’ Dorian clambers on the bed and sits behind her, twisting his legs around hers and pinning her flailing arms to hisbody. ‘We have these claim marks for a damn reason,’ he says, preparing to use his.

‘I wouldn’t,’ Shaw warns.

‘WAKE UP!’ he and his shadows yell in her ear, shaking the room and darkening everything around us.

Her eyes fling open.

She sees Shaw first, then me, and then Dorian holding her. And she no doubt feels the burning of her claim mark.

This should be good.

Without missing a beat, Pix reaches behind her with her uninjured arm and throws Dorian clear across the room.

Just like that! Like the Shadow Master is a fucking ragdoll.

The jackass lands in a heap beside me, his shadows sinking back into his body, and I can’t help but snort.

‘That went well,’ I tell him.

‘Shut up,’ he grumbles.

There’s not a lot that can put him down, and I never expected the silver-haired earth witch would be on the list of likely creatures to knock him on his arse.

But she is always full of surprises.

Dorian and I return to our feet, and we all face her.

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