But he wouldn’t let it happen again. Grim flew at him once more, but
Oro stepped to the side at the last moment, connecting his own fist against
Grim’s jaw, sending the Nightshade stumbling.
“Stop this,” Oro snarled. “You’re—”
Grim, of course, didn’t. He tackled Oro to the ground, knocking the
breath from his lungs, and they rolled in the dirt in a mess of blows that had
Oro spitting blood out of his mouth. They couldn’t use their powers in the
maze, so they scrambled on the ground in a mess of limbs until Oro finally
thought, Fuck this, and unleashed all his pent-up rage. It came out in a kick
to Grim’s ribs, landing with a satisfying crack. In slamming Grim’s head
against the ground. In pummeling Grim’s face, over and over, until Grim
threw him off.
The Nightshade lunged and punched Oro straight in the nose with a
sickening crunch. Bastard. He tasted the metallic sting of his own blood.
Grim wasn’t done. And it seemed he had grown tired of using restraint.
In a flash, Grim’s blade was against Oro’s throat.
Oro stilled, the metal cold against his skin, his heart racing. Grim was
right in front of him, his eyes narrowed. Somehow, they looked both
overcome with emotion, and hollow, like part of his soul had been ripped
away. Panic shot through him. Without Isla here, would Grim really kill him
this time?
Lynx surged forward, baring his teeth. But the creature seemed torn
about interfering. He was Isla’s bonded. He wouldn’t do anything that
might hurt her.
And her heart was split between them.
The panther growled, but Grim did not drop his blade.
In this maze, Oro couldn’t summon his fire. He weighed the risk of
moving now, of trying to break free, just as the sword’s edge pushed farther
into his skin. Oro felt a flash of pain and his own blood running down his
throat. He flinched, expecting Grim to finish the job and slice through his
flesh completely. But instead—
Instead, all he said was, “Do you love her?”
Oro knew he should lie. Lie to this Nightshade on the verge of losing his
own sanity, blood running from the corner of his mouth, eye already
beginning to bruise. This Nightshade . . . who was her husband. And who
currently had his weapon pressed right against his jugular.