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Under His Wings(68)

By:Naima Simone


With a violent heave, Evander shoved away from her. Blood streamed from his shoulder, above his right wing. Satisfaction surged even as she took stock of the deep wound that scored her breast.

She was hurt…but so was he.

* * * * *

Nicolai circled the sky, his gaze scanning the yard, the trees and the gorge.

Where is she, damn it?

As he tightened his search to the forest that lined the cabin, her scream rang in his head, deafening him to everything but the agony that had infused his name. He’d been on the back porch waiting for her to return from her walk when the initial cry had drilled into his brain. He’d bounded off the deck, shifted midair and shot into the sky. Only minutes had passed, but they stretched like eons. Endless eons where she could be hurt…or worse.

Panic and fear swelled and pitched in his gut. He was crazed with it. Not again, not again. The litany spooled in his head. He couldn’t do this again. Couldn’t lose Tamar. He wouldn’t survive it.

Where the fuck is she?

He skimmed the dense branches, the leaves grazing his undercarriage. She couldn’t have gotten far into the woods. Not if she followed the same—

A flash of black among the green and gold leaves snagged his attention.

Out of place. Didn’t belong.

Nicolai dove, heedless of the thick foliage that scratched and nicked his body. Branches snapped under his weight as he plunged toward the forest floor. As soon as he crashed through the tree line, he saw him.

Evander.

Facing off against a smaller gold-and-white hippogryph. Its brown-and-cream spotted feathers flared then folded, the darker tips glancing her gold hindquarters and white tail. The battle stance it assumed only emphasized its delicate beauty.

Recognition rammed into him.

Tamar.

The hippogryph was Tamar, his mate. His warrior. His soul.

Fierce pride and joy exploded inside him, followed by a fury that fisted him in its consuming need to protect and kill.

His rage, too huge to contain, burst from him in a shattering, brutal cry.

He slammed to the ground beside Tamar. The scent of her blood reached him and with a cursory glance he took in the crimson splattering over her white feathers.

“You die today,” Nicolai promised Evander as dark rage billowed through him.

“Maybe,” the rogue growled. “But not before I take your bitch with me.”

Nicolai lunged at the same time Evander feigned to the left and shot forward, aiming for Tamar.

“Fuck!” Nicolai shouted, throwing his body to the side in an effort to shield her. Evander’s chuckle poured into his head as Nicolai registered the rogue’s intention a second too late.

But Evander’s talons ripped through empty space. His laughter became a furious howl as his prey disappeared in a blur of gold-and-white feathers. Nicolai’s gaze shot upward.

Flying. Tamar’s heavy wings flapped against the air, holding her body several feet above them.

Love, pride and hate replaced the blood flowing to his muscles, the breath in his lungs, the power in his body. He plowed into Evander’s side, the hollow snap of bone reverberating against his chest. A hot rush of blood coated his claw. The rogue’s wrath and pain poured out of him in a shrill scream. Evander bucked hard under Nicolai’s bulk but the Dimios held on. The traitor wouldn’t evade him again. Today, he would come to an end.

As if sensing his death, Evander gave a desperate heave, nearly dislodging Nicolai. But then the rogue slammed to the forest floor. Yellow talons dug into his wing blades, a dark-brown beak struck the back of his neck.

Tamar pinned Evander to the ground, her tawny gaze meeting Nicolai over Evander’s head. “Together,” her voice whispered along their link.

“Together,” he murmured and slashed his claw across the hippogryph’s throat at the same time Tamar’s beak punctured the side of Evander’s neck.

Evander slumped to the ground, his blood gushing out of the wounds. The rattle of air escaping the deep gash slicing his windpipe was the only sound in the hushed quiet that followed the battle.

His dark eyes glazed over, death claiming the last sign of life. With a shudder, he went still. Forever.

Nicolai shifted away from him, a deep satisfaction possessing him. It was over—it was finally over.

He glanced up at Tamar and his pleasure shot to panic as with a flutter of her wings, she tumbled off Evander’s back.

With a cry, Nicolai shifted to human form and hurdled the rogue’s corpse to land beside his mate. In a burst of light, she transformed, too inexperienced to hold the hippogryph’s form in her injured state. She curled on the grass into a fetal position, her palms pressed to her chest where blood poured through her fingers.

Terror seized him as he bent and scooped her up in his arms.