After all the pain Jelisette had endured, it would only be fitting for him to feel even a fraction of the agony that had been her daily torment ever since Emery’s death.
Jelisette ran with the speed of her kind and collided with Brynleigh. The two women fell, and Jelisette straddled the younger vampire, pinning her to the floor. With a wave of her hand, she commanded her shadows to wrap around the younger vampire’s wrists, pinning them above her head.
Brynleigh struggled, but she was no match for her Maker.
No one here was. Ancient power ran through Jelisette’s veins.
She raised the stake in the air, and her progeny’s eyes bulged.
“This won’t bring him back,” Brynleigh whispered desperately. “It won’t help the pain.”
As if this little bitch could comprehend Jelisette’s daily agony.
Jelisette sneered. “No, but hearing your fae captain scream as you die will make me happy.”
And happiness was fleeting these days. She had to grab it wherever she could.
“Don’t do this,” Brynleigh begged.
Begged!
That was the final straw.
Jelisette was done. Done with talking. Done with fighting. Done with this night. Done with it all.
Do it, love.
Jelisette raised the stake.
The fae captain screamed. His rage and fear spurned her forward.
Without a second thought, Jelisette plunged the weapon towards Brynleigh’s heart.
CHAPTER 38
Is it Over?
“No!” Ryker roared.
The hands restraining him tightened, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered at all except for Brynleigh.
He thrashed and kicked and pulled. His shoulder burned, the pain getting worse with every passing second, but he could be on fire right now, and he wouldn’t care.
He had to get to her.
Brynleigh had fought her way to him. She couldn’t die now. What kind of cruel fate was this?
Ryker had promised he’d always be by her side, and he was a fae of his words.
So, he fought.
He dug within himself, and despite the prohiberis blocking his magic, despite the pain and agony and exhaustion running through him, he pulled up every last ounce of strength in his possession.
As Jelisette lowered the stake, he funneled every bit of power he had into breaking free from his captors. He shoved his arms up, slamming his good fist into the rebel’s nose. It broke, blood gushing, and Ryker used the commotion to push the armed rebel away.
Ryker barreled to his feet. His arm moved oddly, and he waspretty certain it was broken in several places, but he didn’t care. He raced across the room towards his wife.
He was vaguely aware of the other men yelling and using his escape as a distraction to fight back against the rebels, but he couldn’t focus on them.