Page 125 of First Offense
I sliced, expecting him to fall in a heap of gore at my feet. Instead, my wings hit resistance, bouncing off of the Noir as he staggered from the blow.
How—
He launched himself at me, using all of his weight to throw me to the ground.
Fucking hell.
Layla screamed, causing me to twist under the crushing weight of the Noir pinning me down, only to see her tangled in the net as she struggled, her wings suffocated by the harsh wires. The Noir swarmed around her, taunting but not attacking. Her scream had been one of rage, not pain.
For now.
I shoved—hard—but the Noir didn’t budge. He was like a fucking boulder.
“Don’t you see? I’m not like these other idiots who’ve just tasted the ash of death.” He leaned in, crushing his arm across my throat. “I’ve been feasting for weeks, which puts me at the top of the food chain. And you’re just a snack to me. I’m stronger than you, Novak.”
Who the fuck is this guy?Clearly, he knew me, but I didn’t know him.
Wait, no. That wasn’t quite true.
He’d lost his hand to Auric’s blade.
And my little cherry had handed him his ass outside the cafeteria the next day.
Rather than speak, I smirked, somehow knowing it would irritate him. Except I really wanted to know what he meant about the ash of death. Did he mean the guard’s wings? Because that was an interesting development.
What made them dissolve to ash?
The Noir ran his blade across my arm, a taunting motion that had me hissing in response.
“Where’s the notorious beast now?” he asked, flashing me a bloodied grin. Silver dripped from his mouth, and I turned away, not wanting that shit anywhere near me.
Auric came into view, his naked chest heaving as he swung his blade to add to his impressive kill count. But the inmates just kept coming. And I had no idea from where. It had to be a portal inside, which meant the Reformer had set all this up.
Sick fuck.
The idiot on top of me guffawed, claiming an early victory, his mind clearly garbage.
Had all these Noir forgotten who was in charge?
I almost sighed.
Boulder or not, this idiot would die.
And the rest of his buddies would fall in line.
Because the Reformer clearly wanted us to play this game. And I refused to lose.
The one-handed Noir tossed his blade to the ground—an arrogant move, but one I quickly learned was practical as he wrapped his fingers around my throat and squeezed.
I clawed at his wrists, my wings flaring upward in an attempt to slice him. But I was useless on my back.Fucking rock,I thought, furious at the idiot on top of me.
Only, he jolted in the next breath as Auric’s blade landed between his shoulders at his back. A move that allowed me to shove the boulder off of me but left the commander defenseless. He resorted to throwing punches and kicks, moving lightning-fast, but the others had weapons.
I jumped to my feet, slicing my wing across the one-handed Noir’s throat, then went after those attacking Auric. He knew when to duck and when to jump, having fought at my back for so many years. A century meant nothing. Our bodies would always know the other, and now that we were bonded to Layla, we were somehow even more in tune with one another.
A yelp dismantled my focus. My legs froze as my head swung toward the tree line to where Layla crumpled to the ground. The net was in shreds beside her. But that wasn’t what stopped my heart.
She was holding her wing.
