Page 25 of Born Free

I catch their scent just a second before the entire world explodes into glass.

Two figures erupt through the windows. Without one second of hesitation, Roman’s fist pops into Santiago’s face, knocking him flat to the ground. He’s kneeling on his chest the next second, chaining Santiago’s ankles and wrists.

Sebastian headbutts the other man, who lets out an unearthly roar. He crashes back against the wall, and the entire cottage shudders. Sebastian’s hand wraps around the man’s throat, and he comes nose to nose with him, a snarling roar climbing up my ex-fiancé’s throat.

Roman throws another set of chains to Sebastian, who catches them out of the air. In a fraction of a second, he’s wrapped the man.

It all happens over the span of about three seconds.

And now both Roman and Sebastian have daggers pressed to my captors’ chests.

“Are you alright?” Roman asks, his brows furrowed over vivid blue eyes that find me in the dark. His chest heaves, the adrenaline radiating off of him.

“Drugged,” I say stupidly, my brain still struggling to come out of the fog. “What… Sebastian, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Ending this man’s pathetic excuse for a life,” he says savagely, his voice that of a demon. And with every ounce of humanity missing from his eyes, he sinks the dagger into the man’s heart.

Roman curses loudly.

He wasn’t ready for the man to die. He needs information.

Sebastian yanks the blade out and the man drops to the ground, dead weight, his skin instantly turning gray. Sebastian bends to wipe the blood from the blade on the man’s sleeve.

Santiago is yelling obscenities in English and Spanish. But he doesn’t gain one inch of room with Roman on his chest, and the blade pressed into his skin. A tiny bit of blood starts seeping into the fabric, a sign his skin has been punctured.

Sebastian turns, his blazing red eyes fixed on me. And my heart does wild things as he stalks toward me. I scramble to pull myself into a sitting position, but my limbs are still slow and stiff.

Fear.

Relief.

Anxiety.

Anger.

Hatred.

Memories.

They all pummel me as our eyes meet again for the first time in two months.

“Don’t touch her,” Roman warns in the darkest tone I’ve ever heard from him.

But Sebastian doesn’t heed him. He drops to his knees in front of me and grabs my wrist, pressing two fingers into my skin to feel my pulse.

“What did he dose you with?” Sebastian asks, his tone deadly and urgent. “I can smell it in your blood.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I feel kind of… dull. Sluggish.”

“Desflurane or isoflurane,” Sebastian guesses, his hand moving to my forehead. “Maybe halothane.”

I push his hand away from me, my brows furrowing. “I can’t believe you’re here. After all the shit you pulled. Actually, I can’t believe Roman left your head on your shoulders.”

“A temporary negotiation,” Roman seethes. “Now, you’re going to answer my questions, and you’ll give me the truth, or I’m going to cut your fingers off, one by one,” he says as his attention returns to Santiago. Roman grips him by the front of his shirt and hauls him into a sitting position, his back leaning against the cabinets.

“Rot in hell, you ungrateful Royal,” Santiago says as he spits in Roman’s face.

Roman’s eyes squeeze shut as he lets out a slow, controlled breath through his nostrils. He wipes the spit with the sleeve of his shoulder. His eyes are scarlet when he opens them again. He grabs Santiago’s left hand and slices his thumb off in one clean cut.

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