Blood Lands (Savage Lands #5)(40)

“Isn’t that just a half-breed?” I blinked in confusion. “The people you called an abomination?”

“Not a half-breed, but our own species. A super-soldier.” He peered purposely at me. “Neither fae nor human.”

Neither fae nor human. Ice slid down my vertebrae, my pulse pounding in my ears.

“What do you mean?” I licked at my dry lips, sensing the answer but hoping I was wrong.

“Dr. Karl ran your blood work this morning.” Istvan turned to me. “Do you know what he found?”

No sound made it out of my throat.

“Your Immunoglobulin M levels are even higher than last time, which were already past any level of survival.” He tucked his arms behind his back, strolling closer. “I know you are not human anymore after taking the pills. However, your levels even eclipsed the fae we tested here.”

Pills have nothing to do with it. I’ve never been human. I could hear the gulp I swallowed down resonate in my ears.

“You know what we found when we tested his blood?” Istvan flicked his head at Warwick, my gaze following. Something about him made an alarm go off in my head, but Istvan’s voice drew me back before I could analyze it. “The same thing... not just close to your level, but the exact same.”

Not a muscle moved; no expression passed over my face.

“You know what else we found?”

Silence.

“Neither of you fell under human or fae.”

Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

“I no longer need this nectar to make my army. I have it right here.” He nodded at us. “You and Warwick are ground zero. The start of a new race.”

My mouth opened to rebut his claims when movement from Warwick shot my attention to him. His legs dipped, and he stumbled back into the guards.

Blinking, my regard went over him—limp, eyes glazed, unsteady. I realized this whole time he hadn’t said a word or even tried to fight against the guards.

“What the hell did you give him?” Alarm ticked at the back of my throat.

“Come now, Brexley. I taught you better. Do you really think I wouldn’t sedate the man known to be a legend? The one called The Wolf?” Istvan strolled closer to Warwick, examining the beast of a man. Greed blossomed in his eyes, excitement at what Warwick could provide him. What he could create.

“Please...” I wrestled the group of guards, getting a few steps closer. “Don’t hurt him.”

Istvan’s head snapped back at me, understanding creeping over his face. “You love him.”

The claim made me suck in. I didn’t respond. Istvan wasn’t allowed to know my heart. To have access to my thoughts and emotions. Though, even as I locked my expression down, I knew it was still written all over me.

The word seemed so tiny. Four letters couldn’t contain what I felt for Warwick. What we had together. Time and space couldn’t even hold us. Only to each other were we bound.

We bled in bed. We loved in battle.

We defied nature and eluded death.

Love was insignificant compared to what I felt—what I would sacrifice for him.

“Use me instead.” The proposal shot from my lips. “Take my blood. Use it on Caden or whomever you want. Just leave him out of this.”

The thought of Istvan ripping his essence, taking away everything Warwick was, the part of me inside him, the link we shared. It was the worst of violations. I’d rather be skinned alive than feel Warwick being shredded, the bond between us snapping forever.

“I’m taking it all—from both of you.” Istvan’s arrogance was mocking and cruel.

His claim kicked me in the chest, my lungs wheezing. He would drain Warwick of his essence and blood.

Anger sizzled my veins, forging and building back my broken pieces. “Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Him.”

Scarlet burned over Istvan’s cheeks, his boots stomping to me until he was an inch away. “You have the audacity to tell me what to do?” Ire strained the muscles in his cheek. “I will take what I want, when I want.” He stepped back, spinning for Warwick.

Wanna bet? I heard a voice inside me. A power living between life and death—a potency which rattled my bones. The cuffs around my wrist whined as I pulled on them, a sweep of wind whipping through the underground room, flicking my hair. I leveled my gaze on Istvan. I could feel my connection to Warwick like a hot wire running between us, though instead of more power accelerating my magic, a slight sluggishness tapped at our connection.

Istvan turned back to me. Instead of fear in his eyes, I saw smugness.

Pain shot into my arm, and my head snapped over my shoulder.

Dr. Karl stood there, a syringe in hand, pushing liquid into my arm.

The wave of drowsiness kicked in almost instantly, swaying me forward, forcing the guards to stumble with me, trying to keep me up, the fire dampening inside me like a bucket of water.

My lids batted to stay open but muscles going lax, as a haziness crept into my vision.

“I am always ten steps ahead, Brexley.” Istvan tugged on his cuffs. “Always.”





Whatever Dr. Karl injected me with kept me awake, but left me fuzzy, barely clinging to anything substantial. I had no understanding of anything. My mind couldn’t hold on to thoughts for long; they floated away into the ether like dust. Forgotten.