War of Hearts(112)

Footsteps from behind drew her around. Devon limped down the planks toward her, his expression grim, his cheeks tearstained.

“Help is coming. Unless you want to tell me how to defuse those bombs, we need to get everyone as far away from here as possible.”

Devon stared out at the approaching speedboat and then turned back to Thea. He stumbled and Thea reached out to steady him.

He grabbed onto her, and she pulled him upright. “Devon, are you okay?”

He shook his head, his eyes meeting hers. “I needed you to do it. I couldn’t do it.”

“I know,” she reassured him. “I know.”

More tears slipped down his cheeks. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t blame you. You saved me … but you also ruined me, Thea. Just existing … you ruin lives.”

Hurt shattered through her. “Devon …”

His expression hardened. “It has to end.”

Pain exploded through her heart seconds before Devon stumbled back, sobbing.

Agony ripped through her chest, taking her to her knees again.

Thea glanced down, her hands wavering uselessly over the iron dagger Ashforth had slammed into her ribs, missing her heart.

Devon hadn’t missed.

“THEA!” she heard Conall’s roar in the distance.

Tears spilled down her cheeks.

It really was the end.





“That’s Devon!” Callie shouted over the speedboat’s engine. “Ashforth’s son. Creepy as fuck too, just so you know!”

Conall narrowed his eyes on the man as they approached Thea. “Thea spoke affectionately of him. He’s like a brother!”

His sister grunted at his side.

When they’d arrived at Loch Isla, they heard the explosion before they saw it. Upon skidding to a halt at the dock across the loch from Castle Cara, they’d all jumped out of their vehicles to see the boat on fire.

Confused as to the goings-on, his wolves advised they hold back but Conall got into the speedboat James was happy to commandeer. He hot-wired the boat just as Conall saw Thea appear on the castle’s dock.

Alive.

She was alive.

He couldn’t wait to get to her, and Conall hoped for Ashforth’s sake, he was already dead.

“Conall, Devon’s hand.” Callie gripped her brother’s arm, fingers biting into his skin. His gaze narrowed on Devon.

Even from this distance, he could make out the silver-gray blade.

Pure iron.

Panic slammed into him with the force of a cannonball. “THEA!” he roared in warning.

She couldn’t hear him.

She couldn’t fucking hear him.

He lunged forward, rocking the boat. “THEA!”

Devon plunged the blade right into her heart.

“THEA!” His bellow echoed around Loch Isla, his rage almost like a sentient being, echoing and swelling over Castle Cara.

Vik’s voice came to him like a fist through his chest. “If you stab a fae in the heart with a knife of pure iron, they cannot recover. It is a slow, painful death for the fae.”

Thea’s legs gave out on the dock, her body slumping forward as she stared at the knife in her heart.

Thea.

No.

“No,” he exhaled, trying to catch a breath beneath the crushing pressure in his chest. “No.”

Conall’s eyes flew to Devon, who staggered back from his mate.

He was going to kill him.

His claws protracted, his muzzle lengthened, his jaw cracked with the partial change, and his wolf teeth grew, filling his mouth with razor-sharp weapons.

James turned the boat as it neared the dock, kicking up water, and Conall leapt across the distance between the boat and dock. It was a jump no human could have made. His feet hit the wood with such force, a plank cracked. But Conall didn’t care. He couldn’t see anything but Thea dying and Devon …

The man, Ashforth’s son, stared at him wide-eyed.

That’s the only movement he had the chance to make.

Conall was on him before he could speak. A slice of his claws up Devon’s belly to disable him and then he clamped his teeth down on his neck and tore his throat out with animalistic satisfaction. Dead instantly, the traitor fell off the dock and into the water below.

“Conall!”

He whirled, muzzle covered in blood and gore, and saw Callie bent over Thea as James docked the speedboat.

Conall could feel the fire from the boat behind him, hear its crackling blaze, still going, ready to light up the dock at any moment.

What he couldn’t bear to feel was the grief desperate to take hold.

Because that was admitting there was nothing he could do.

That meant admitting Thea would really die.

He staggered toward her, changing back from half-man, half-wolf, and wiped the blood from his face as he fell over his mate.

“Thea …” He reached for her, caressing her cheek.

She was so pale.

Too pale.

Looking down at the dagger in her heart, he didn’t know if it was best to keep it in there or take it out.

“Thea.”

Her lashes fluttered and with a groan of what sounded like deep-seated agony, she forced her eyes open.

“Thea.” He braced over her, pressing his lips to hers, gently, so gently. “What do I do? I dinnae know what to do.” Conall was not a man who cried. The only time he’d shed a tear had been when his parents died, and even then, it had been in private. Yet he could not stop the wet that blurred his vision. “You cannae leave me, lass, so tell me what to do,” he choked out.