Chapters (34)
- Cover
- Also by Katee Robert
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- About the Author
Shiloh catches her wrist and pulls her into our hug. It’s the easiest thing in the world to lift my arm to encompass Monroe. It feels so fucking right, something gets lodged in my throat. We’ll figure this out and find a way through. I don’t have any doubts about that, not right now. I hug my women tightly to me, offering them comfort the best way I know how. “This changes nothing for me, Shiloh.”
“It changes nothing for me, either.”
Shiloh looks between us as best she can with our positions. “Seriously? I’m an Amazon, and you’re just going to accept that?”
“Yes.”
Monroe nods. “Yes.” She narrows her eyes. “Though my mother and I are going to have a discussion very soon about this.”
“Monroe—” Shiloh makes a choked sound. I’m still trying to figure out what’s going on when her eyes roll back in her head and she goes limp. It’s only my arm around her waist that keeps her off the ground.
“What the fuck?”
“Mystic.” Monroe curses, and then she’s gone, sprinting toward the building to the right of us.
“Monroe!” She ignores me yelling her name, and I can’t chase her down without abandoning Shiloh, and I still don’t know what the fuck is wrong with Shiloh.
I see it as I ease her limp body to the ground. A tiny dart sticking out of her neck. There’s already a black ring around it, which is confirmation of Monroe’s claim. The Mystics love their fucking poison. “Goddamn it.” Monroe is out there going after a fucking Mystic, and if the fact they made it this far behind Amazon territory is any indication, it’s one of the leader’s elite squad.
Monroe might die.
Shiloh might die.
Panic grips me, and I fumble for my phone. It takes three tries to dial Abel and as the phone rings, I watch the black spread from the dart in creeping lines. This poison is a Mystic specialty. No one has ever figured out what exactly it is, and even with all our research, we’ve never found anything similar out in the world. It has to be something they cooked up in their greenhouses and labs at some point, which means only a Mystic will know the antidote.
“What?”
I have to set my phone on the pavement because I’m shaking so badly, I’m afraid I’ll drop it. “I need help.”
“Where are you?”
“Amazon faction, northern border. Shiloh’s been attacked, and we need an antidote to Mystic poison, and we need it now.”