Page 12 of Donovan
"Donovan—"
"I saved your ass, remember?" I reminded him.
A long-suffering groan. "Yeah, yeah. I’ll have it ready. But you owe me after this."
I ended the call without answering. Because the only thing that mattered was that I was getting to Declan.
CHAPTER THREE
DECLAN
Pain.That was all I knew. It roared in my ribs, sharp and punishing, every breath a fresh agony.
Blood pooled in my mouth, thick and metallic, dripping from my split lip as I coughed.
My arms trembled as I tried to push myself up, but my body had nothing left to give. Above me, Gael loomed, his piercing gaze unreadable. The bastard could end it now.
I could see it, could feel it, the moment he decided to sink his fangs into my throat, or hell, just snap my neck like a twig.
Instead, he crouched, studying me like some dying animal he hadn’t decided whether to kill or walk away from.
“Do you really want to die here, Declan?” His voice was almost… gentle.
I bared my teeth. “You’ll… kill me either way.”
“No,” he said, leaning closer. His inhuman eyes bore into mine, sending a sickening shudder down my spine.
Gael continued, “Not today. But if you come after me again, I’ll finish what I started. And if you push me, I’ll make sure Donovan is next.”
My vision blurred, not from pain, but from the sheer rage that exploded inside me.
Donovan. How dare he say his name?
I clenched my fists, forcing my battered body to move, to lash out, to do something, but Gael only smirked and stepped back.
“I promise,” I rasped.
Gael’s eyes flickered with something. Satisfaction, maybe. A silent acknowledgment of the weight behind my words.
“You’d better,” he murmured.
Then, just like that, he turned on his heel and walked away, vanishing into the swirling snow outside. I slumped back against the cold, blood-soaked floor of the barn, gasping.
My vision swam, nausea curdling in my gut. This was my fault. My team, my men, were dead, their bodies strewn across the barn like discarded dolls.
If I had never pursued Asher and his vampire lover, they would still be alive. And Asher…
I squeezed my eyes shut. Asher was gone. The thought hit like a blade to the gut, slow and cruel, twisting deeper the longer I let myself sit with it.
Donovan’s last remaining family member was dead.
I wanted to believe otherwise. To tell myself that maybe, just maybe, he had gotten away, that he had found some way to survive.
That he had done what I couldn’t and saved himself. But I wasn’t a fool. Asher should have listened to me.
He should have come home. Asher should have never put himself in this mess in the first place, should have never let himself get tangled up with a vampire.
And yet, even as I thought it, even as the anger boiled in my chest, I knew deep down that it wasn’t as simple as that.
