Then the door burst in. Sabine realized that she wouldn’t have to reveal Dante’s presence in the city. The phoenix had just stalked inside. Fire burned in his eyes. He stared at them all with fury. And flames burned above his hand.
He lifted his hand and aimed the flames right at Cassie. “You.”
The flames tore from his fingers and flew toward her.
Cassie screamed and lifted her hands.
Sabine moved before she realized what she was doing. She jumped in front of Cassie and the flames hit her in the chest.
“No!” Ryder yelled.
Sabine fell to the floor and rolled. Her clothes were smoking, but—but the fire hadn’t injured her.
Cassie was there, trying to slap at the flames on Sabine’s body. She gasped and glanced up at Sabine. “No burns.” A shocked whisper.
So the fire hadn’t burned her. Big deal. “You’re welcome,” Sabine mumbled as she jerked her head to the right to find Dante and Ryder fighting it out. Flames and claws and fury.
“He wasn’t aiming at either of you,” the low voice whispered from behind Sabine and Cassie. “I think that fire was meant for me.”
Even as fear pulsed through her veins, Sabine spun around.
And she felt a sharp, hard thrust in her chest.
Sabine looked into Malcolm’s eyes. Eyes that were very much aware, and then her gaze fell to the chunk of wood that had been shoved into her chest.
Blood pumped out of her.
“No!” Cassie yelled.
Malcolm swiped out with his claws and sliced right across Cassie’s throat. Her yell choked off. Blood sprayed. In the next instant, Cassie was tossed across the room.
“Told you all,” Malcolm growled, “it takes more to kill me.”
Sabine’s fingers were fumbling with the stake. Attempting to wrench it out of her. But . . . her fingers felt numb. Uncoordinated. She couldn’t seem to grab hold of the wood. And she was falling, slumping, hitting the hard floor.
She tried to keep her eyes open. They wanted to sag. She wanted to sleep.
No, not sleep.
Die.
“Sabine?”
Ryder was there. Crouching over her. Ignoring the threat right behind him. Didn’t he see Malcolm? He couldn’t turn his back on that bastard. Malcolm was evil. Twisted.
Unstoppable?
“You’re going to be all right,” Ryder said.
She hadn’t realized he was such a liar.
He pulled out the stake. The fast removal hurt, and she moaned.
And more blood gushed from her.
Ryder put his bleeding wrist over her mouth. Tried to give her his blood.
But she couldn’t take it. She was too cold. Her body . . . She couldn’t even drink.
It was just like before. Her body had shut down, and she was trapped, screaming on the inside but making no sound for anyone else to hear.
Just like before . . . the first time she’d met Ryder. She’d lost her blood and been so cold, just like this.
Malcolm drove his claws into Ryder’s back. Ryder didn’t let her go. He had to let her go. He had to fight his brother.
Ryder’s blood rained down on her.
No.
He wasn’t fighting back. Malcolm was slicing Ryder’s back, ripping into his flesh, but Ryder was just holding her tight. Whispering, over and over, “Don’t leave me, Sabine, don’t ever leave me.”
But she was already leaving. She knew what death felt like. Knew its cold touch so very, very well. Almost as well as she knew her lover’s touch.
Her breath had stilled in her lungs. Her heart had stopped beating. Maybe it had stopped the instant the stake plunged into her . . . or the instant it was pulled out.
She couldn’t move her body. Couldn’t speak and say the one thing that she needed to say. I love you.
But perhaps she didn’t need to say the words. Perhaps Ryder already knew. Because in that last glimpse she had of him, Sabine saw his eyes. His gaze was filled with fear, yes, but also filled with love.
He loved her.
She hoped, hoped, that he knew . . . I love you, too.
Then the cold deepened. Such terrible cold.
She was leaving him.
Leaving . . .
Why did the cold burn?
Sabine was gone.
Ryder held her tight, ignoring the pain as Malcolm sliced the flesh from his back.
“Fight me!” Malcolm roared.
Ryder held on to Sabine. Her blood soaked him. She’d been gone, even before he’d pulled the stake from her chest. Her eyes had already been empty. The fierce passion that was Sabine . . . gone.
Another slash over his back, then Malcolm’s claws drove straight into Ryder’s spine. “Fight me.”
Ryder didn’t feel the pain from the attack. He was already in enough agony. Lost her. The only thing, the only person that I needed . . . Lost. Her.
His heart was gone. He’d tried to hold on to his humanity. Fought for it.