After all this time, they’d finally come for him…

He choked on the muzzle as tears filled his eyes and stung like hell as they fell down his bloodied cheeks.

Syn let out a foul Ritadarion curse the minute he stepped in front of Darling. He repeated Maris’s words. “Dear gods, what have they done to you?”

Maris moved back to give Syn room. “I don’t know. Damn them for it. Bastards! Every one of them. I hope they all roast their nuts in hell’s hottest fires.”

Nykyrian grabbed Zarya whose eyes betrayed her terror at the giant size of him.

Almost seven feet tall with his boots on, Nemesis’s lethal carriage had made grown assassins piss their pants. He completely dwarfed Zarya. “Where’s the release for the prince’s chains?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Syn snarled as he tried to break the chain around Darling’s neck with his bare hands. “We’ve got to get him down. Fast. He’s hurting so badly that his jaw’s quivering and it’s damaging him even more.” He cupped Darling’s cheek in his gloved hand and held it so that Darling couldn’t move it anymore. Then he wiped some of the blood off Darling’s chin. “Hang on, buddy. Just a few seconds more and we’ll have you out of this.”

Shoving Zarya into Jayne’s custody, Nykyrian came forward. His anger was palatable as he grabbed the cuff around Darling’s neck and ripped it in half with his bare hands. The snapping metal was the most glorious sound Darling had ever heard.

For the first time in months, he could breathe without it cutting into his throat.

Nykyrian moved to Darling’s right wrist to break that chain, too. He froze when he saw Darling’s missing finger. Cursing, Nykyrian gave Darling’s hand a light squeeze before he tore the cuff open.

The moment he was free, Darling started to fall, but Maris caught him against his chest and held him in a tight hug. “I have you, baby. Don’t worry. No one’s going to hurt you now.”

Nero snapped the cuff on his left hand with his powers.

When Nykyrian reached for the muzzle, Syn grabbed his wrist and stopped him. “I’ll have to surgically remove it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. The fucking bastards left it on him so long, it’s grown into his throat. See the marks?”

Though they were currently hidden by the black crash helmet he wore, Nykyrian had scars on his face from when he’d been a child and a different kind of muzzle had been used on him. Like Darling’s, his muzzle had been left in place for so long it’d grown into his skin.

Nykyrian cursed again.

His breathing ragged, Darling barely heard them as he held on to Maris with what little strength he had. Never in his life had he been more grateful for his best friend’s appearance.

“I’ve got you, Darling,” Maris whispered in his ear. “Through thick and thin, brothers to the bitter end. No one’s going to hurt you again. I swear it.”