éli punched the wall again, blood leaking from his torn knuckles as pain from his stab wound doubled him over. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Who were those bastards?” He kicked a chair across the room, cursing under his breath. “Is anyone following them?”

  A dozen men stood at attention, all staring at the far wall. They’d lost three more soldiers tonight, but none in front of him had the audacity to show grief in their hardened expressions. They were as angry as he was.

  “We put two men on their trail, Commander.” Sweat beaded across the brow of the graying man who spoke. Blood stained his cheeks. “We can have the horses ready to ride in—”

  “Then go!” éli clenched his fists so tight the knuckles turned white around the bloody scrapes. “When Granger returns, we find the woman and kill those green-hooded bastards.”

  His men saluted and hurried out the door, slamming it behind them.

  He hated waiting. Hated not knowing his field of action. Those green-clad bastards had come out of nowhere and stolen his prize. His only consolation was the warm, sensual burning of her kiss on his lips, something he knew would piss Jon off.

  At times, he could still remember the rain-slicked alley. The smell of fresh-baked bread wafting from a nearby eatery. Sebastian’s last glance as he tried to pull the dagger from his back. Then it was over. He’d crashed into the gutter, lifeless eyes staring at nothing while éli screamed from the shadows.

  He’d been just a kid, but he’d wanted to kill Ayers that night. The Rakir had come and taken him to the Tower, stolen his life before he had a chance to bury Sebastian’s body.

  “I will not let him win, brother,” he growled, punching the wall again. Jon had won too many times, cleverly evading the full wrath of éli’s vengeance.

  Now the whisper of soothing rain on his skin was going to drive him mad. Whatever she’d done to him tonight, he could feel her now, a bright light shining on the darkest parts of his heart. In that moment, he both needed her and wanted to kill her.

  “Evardo!” éli righted the chair and plopped down in front of the fire, his injury stinging deep into his side. He stripped off his uniform shirt and leather breastplate then winced as he inspected the stab wound.

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  His son and servant slipped silently into the room, evading his gaze and likely his anger.

  “Stitch this up,” éli said, “and I want to know who the fuck those people were.”

  Connor seemed to hesitate, too young to really do more than try not to become the focus of his wrath.

  But Evardo dropped to their knees with a satchel clasped in their hands. Would you like me to dull the pain first?

  “No!” he barked much harsher than he should have.

  Evardo’s shoulders hunched tight.

  “I don’t care if it stings. I need to be ready to ride ten minutes ago.”

  He flexed his fingers, softness breathing in his skin. Jon’s wife now bonded to him. She was his ticket to freedom from the pain that burned like iron in his heart. And a Guardian too.

  They call themselves Tahiró, the future. They’re believers of—

  Evardo frowned as if trying to understand something or maybe picking over their words.

  “Just spit it out.” éli waved Evardo away and grabbed his dagger from the fire, the blade hot in the embers. He really had no time for a healer tonight. éli pressed the hot blade against his wound, seething under the burning pain.

  They follow the Guardian. Protect her. One of them is a strange sort of—

  Someone knocked at the door, cutting off Evardo’s words. éli had heard enough anyway. Just a few more assholes in the way of his prize.

  “Come.” éli set the dagger aside to cool.

  Granger stepped into the room, dripping water across the floor.

  “You’d better have good news,” éli muttered.

  “The old man was at it again tonight.” A grin spread across Granger’s face. “Scared them tavern folks half to death with his sob stories.”

  “I said good news, not the insane ramblings of an old man.” He flexed and unflexed his fingers again, breathing in the Guardian’s softness. “You kill those bowmen yet?”

  The smile slid off Granger’s face, his one eye hardening. “City guard arrested them before we could move in.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” éli stood and grabbed the chair, flinging it against the wall. Wood shattered in a dozen directions as Connor ducked and covered his head. “You were supposed to kill those bastards! Not let the city guard have them. Fuck!” He seethed. “Get everyone into woodsman clothing. We’re going after the woman.”

  “Yes, Commander.” Granger pressed a fist to his shoulder and exited the room.

  Flames crackled in the hearth. éli opened his hand, black and white flecks drifting away from his palm. The black ones seemed to suck the light from the room, while the softer ones brightened.

  “I’ve got you now,” he whispered, groaning at the recollection of her mouth against his. He wanted to drag her to Jon’s cell so that bastard could see what he’d lost, but he’d have to find her first.

  éli pulled on a fresh shirt and grabbed his weapons. Kicking open the door, he barked orders at his men and headed to the stables. Time to find the woman before Jon did and make his brother proud.