Page 102 of Reaper’s Curse

The guards hauled Chace to his feet. Moved him through the crowd of afflicted toward the warehouse door.

“Indeed.” Winter walked us out of the warehouse and into the street, beyond sight of Chace.

Winter spoke to me—I was sure of it—but without the sight of Chace to hold me above water, my consciousness quickly dragged me under, where nothing but night shadows and stars surrounded my world.

27

Winter carried an unconscious Raven through the gate and onto the palace grounds.

He was no fool. The way Chace had looked at Raven, and the way she’d been unable to tear her gaze from him, even while in Winter’s arms… If they were still denying their attraction, then they were fooling only themselves, and poorly so.

Sure, Raven also liked Winter. He had no doubt about that, but whatever she felt for him clearly didn’t run nearly as deep as her unacknowledged emotions involving her coworker. If Winter were a better male, a more committed-relationship kind of male, he might have been upset. But as things stood, he wasn’t. Hadn’t been in a very long time.

He still found Chace annoying, and, yeah, he harbored an ounce or more of jealousy. But he never allowed himself to consider Raven for anything long term, and Chace or no Chace, she was still a delightful puzzle for Winter to work at solving. They had their own rather delicious rapport outside of Chace’s influences.

And, well, when Chace undoubtably…eventually…crushed Raven’s heart, Winter would be there to console her.

The prince stepped onto the grass expanse surrounding the palace and hollered to an approaching guard, sent him to retrieve Lucas. Priority, urgent. The guard dashed off at a run.

Raven would require immediate attention. Blood marred her lips and cheek, and the skin of her palms had been slashed to ribbons. Her unconscious state hinted at possible other internal issues.

He didn’t care what General Beckett was trying to attain. What happened in that warehouse was barbaric. Acting on an order by his grandmother, no less.

He would deal with all that soon enough. First, he needed to save Chace’s hide…as much as that chapped his own. Which meant he needed Lucas to collect Raven.

Struggling with his own exhaustion, exhaustion brought on from pushing against the magical binds trapped around his wrists, Winter didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to maintain holding on to Raven. Nevertheless, he kept his pace quick as he crossed the lawn, but not so quick as to jostle her unnecessarily.

She moaned and tossed her head but didn’t wake.

He stared down at her, careful of his steps, lest he trip and send them both tumbling to the ground. She didn’t need any more roughhousing. His magic hummed with the nearness of her, but nothing so strong that he couldn’t withstand the urge. Would that continue to be the case when the iron cuff was removed? Because he needed the cuff off if he were to help Chace.

He had managed to pool all the magic the cuff would allow him to access…which he was surprised there had been any…and had thrown it all at that thing in the warehouse. If Winter had been in full form, whoever or whatever that thing was would have been encased in a block of ice.

It wasn’t, because he wasn’t, but the attacking magic had been enough to stop whatever the thing was trying to do with Raven. Stop him long enough for Chace to swoop in and save her.

The image of Chace pulling Raven into his arms drifted across Winter’s memory, and he gritted his teeth. He should have been the one. He should have been the hero.

Only…

Gods. I’m drained. Completely tapped.

He was of no magical use to anyone in his current state.

Raven’s head rolled against his chest, and he tightened his grip. Moved past the gardens toward the castle’s nearest entrance—one designated for servants.

He was several yards away when Lucas burst out the door, a nervous energy vibrating in the man’s limbs.

“About time,” Winter grumbled under his breath.

“Your Highness,” Lucas said. “I was informed there was a most urgent matter afoot, and that I should run, not walk, to your attendance.” He skidded to a halt and ogled Raven. Lowered his voice. “Good gods. What happened?”

“We’ll discuss that later,” Winter said. “There is another urgent matter to which I must first attend.” He shifted Raven’s weight and motioned for Lucas to take her. “See that she is cared for, and I will come as soon as I can. In the meantime, let no one else near her, besides yourself and Neive. Not even the royal healer. Understood?”

Lucas nodded, and Winter shifted Raven’s care to him. The man servant grunted under the load.

“Gods above,” he mumbled and began to turn back toward the palace.

“Lucas.”