Page 145 of Cursed Shadows 4

I choke on a surprised shout.

Then the stream is rushing up at me.

I fall into the water.

I don’t feel the cold of the stream wash over me, I don’t feel the water rushing down my throat, I don’t even hear the gurgle of my drowning cry.

I only feel the hot, wet flames burning deep in my thigh. They consume me.

A hand snatches at my ankle… then I’m yanked out of the stream.

I twist onto my back.

Rocks and boulders scrape down my spine, drawing a hollow sound from my parted mouth. My sweater tears against the rocks, but the grip that’s firm around my ankle, it drags me ashore, drags me over nature’s grater.

I blink away the droplets of water that cling to my lashes.

Looking down my body, I see a familiar clenched-jaw, painted honey, gleaming blue eyes and dark tendrils of hair.

Daxeel gives one, final yank of my leg—and I am fully ashore, nothing but dirt and rocks under me.

He doesn’t release me.

And he doesn’t look at me, either.

His gaze is aimed at the tree over the way.

“You’re welcome,” a foreign voice grumbles—a lighter, smoother voice than any dark male’s I’ve ever heard. But the accent is of Dorcha.

I turn my grimace to the newcomer.

A dark warrior drops silently out of the trees. Her boots are soft on landing and, as she rises, bow in hand, the gleam of black leathers lick all over her muscles. A female warrior with hair so glacier that it has the same blueish tint to it as those glass eyes of hers.

Daxeel turns his cheek to the female. His stare drops to me, and it feels like ice spears are pinning me in place.

His answer is a growl, “I had her.”

Still, his grip is as solid as vines wrapped around my ankle. My leg is raised up, the blood of that searing pain burrowing into my thigh, it flows down to my waist in crimson streams.

An arrow protrudes from my thigh. Sleek, thick and pierced too deeply.

I scowl at the female. Bitch.

Daxeel traces my thoughts,mirrorsthem.

He eyes the small hole pierced into the side of my thigh, where the sleek black arrow sticks out.

I turn my cheek to it.

“You maimed my evate.” Daxeel growls the words with a warning that ripples tension through the female. “Best to stay as silent as you possibly can,Mika.” He spits her name like it’s a threat.

And it’s one she heeds.

Her glass eyes swerve to the gathering of males by the treeline. Only Rune nods his head in greeting, perhaps an approval that he sneaks around Daxeel’s back, but Dare throws her a look so dark that, if I wasn’t rigid against the pain of my fresh wound, I might have shuddered at the sight of.

Daxeel snares my attention.

He moves for me, boots harsh on the mush.

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