Page 39 of Sweet Surrender
Saint shook his head almost violently. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe all his instincts had gotten wonky since Knight had come around.
He walked to the gate, feeling like he was moving in slow motion, unlocked it, then slid it open.
A feeling of abject terror spread down his limbs, like his entire body had been dipped in ice.
No, he thought, feeling numb.No. No. No.
Knight was still talking, but his voice sounded like it was coming from far away.
The dog didn’t always come to his gates to greet him every time. Besides, he and Knight had played fetch with it yesterday, as Saint did most Sundays, and sometimes, the dog didn’t turn up on the Monday after that for whatever reason. Probably sleeping off all the exercise, had been Saint’s guess.
But he knew. Heknew.
He walked slowly up to the small landing and had barely spotted the limp, bloody lump of golden fur before he was spinning around to face Knight.
“Oh God.” He was gasping, struggling to breathe. “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.” He pressed a hand to his chest just as his vision went dark.
Knight managed to catch Saint before he could fall. The human wasn’t unconscious, thank Almighty, just hyperventilating.
Knight had scented the blood in the air but hadn’t been able to warn Saint in time. Saint was shaking, gasping like a fish out of water, clutching his chest like it was being constricted. Hesmelled like fear and heartbreak, and underneath it all was a faint note of pure fury.
“Saint. Saint, can you hear me?” They’d both sank to their knees on the sandy ground. Saint clenched his eyes shut, shaking his head. The movement felt more like a denial than a response to Knight’s question. “Saint.” Knight squeezed his shoulders hard. “He’s not dead,” he said urgently. He could hear the heartbeat, though it was faint. But if Knight was going to save him, they had to do it quickly.
A bit of life bled back into Saint’s expression. “What?” He was crying, tears spilling down his cheeks every time he blinked. It seemed like he wasn’t even aware. Knight’s heart was fucking breaking. He wanted to kill the person who did this, slowly, so he watched the life drain from their fucking eyes. And from the way Saint smelled, that delicious taste of his anger rising, perhaps he wanted it, too.
“He’s not dead,” Knight repeated. “But if you want me to save him, you need to make another deal with me. Come on.”
More lucidity came to Saint’s eyes. He furiously wiped his tears away. “How do I—?”
Knight waved a hand, and the summoning slash binding circle formed underneath them, like a snake had dug the lines into the sand. “Tell me the deal.”
“I want you to heal my dog,” Saint said, shoulders heaving. “I want him whole and healthy and unharmed.”
“Sacrifice,” Knight said, mostly to himself. “Give me your hand.”
Saint sucked in a sharp breath when Knight pierced his finger with the point of a dangerously sharp fang, then lightly licked the blood at the tip. His pupils blew wide, and he swayed a little where he was kneeling. Oh fuck, was that what his blood tasted like? He stared at the cut he’d made, swallowing the saliva thathad pooled in his mouth. When he looked up, Saint’s eyes were just as dark as his.
Fuck.
Focus, Knight!
“Say the vow: Igris. Entis. Untis. Represe.”
The bond lit up between them, a second thread joining him to Saint. Knight didn’t waste further time.
Now that he’d been filled with hope, Saint seemed steadier, holding Knight’s arm as Knight pulled him to his feet.
He didn’t look back at Saint as he stalked to the gate protecting the tiny landing, waving a hand to magically open it.
Then he sank to his knees by the dog. Granted the power from the new bond he’d formed, bringing it back to full health was as easy as breathing.
The second bond in his chest disappeared like the flick of a switch. He sucked in a quiet breath, blinking at the slight disorientation. The dog’s ribs rose and fell quickly, but deeply. It began whining, afraid and confused, shaking with a lingering terror from whatever had happened to it before they’d arrived. Knight felt another surge of fury and bloodlust.
“Oh God,” Saint cried, rushing forward.
Knight managed to clean up the spilled blood before pulling back to give Saint some space. Saint sank to his knees by the dog, cooing and petting it. It was still shaking and whining, though it was now nuzzling into Saint’s chest, weakly licking his stroking fingers, its tail curled between its legs.
Saint turned to look at Knight, his eyelashes wet. He fisted the front of Knight’s robes and yanked him down into a brief, harsh kiss.
