A coppery richness hits the back of my throat, and my world explodes.

A bomb of light and heat detonates inside me, bursting through every nerve and synapse. My eyes roll, and I slump, head lolling onto Alexei’s shoulder.

He strokes my face. This gift will awaken your strength. Your true nature.

The commotion outside the vampire’s wings comes to me as muffled noise. The prince throws his wings back with a sharp, leathery crack, and a hot pulse shakes the air. There’s a loud woompf, and every soldier gathered around us, every Blood Servant trying to protect their prince, is hit with a force of Flame that bends them double as they hurtle from the ground and land again, yards away.

Commander Flanagan stands in the aftermath, a few feet from us, a sword in his hand. He’s covered in blood, his hair a wild mess around his shoulders, his face an impenetrable mask. He’s untouched by the vampire’s show of power, as if the wave of force blew through him.

Flanagan steps forward, diamond-silver eyes glittering with a hint of the savagery I witnessed before. He raises his sword and rests the point to the vampire’s neck. “Let him go, Alexei.”

Alexei ignores the blade pressed to his skin. He says nothing at first, only clutches me to his body, kisses my forehead, smooths my hair.

I’m lost in a sea of sensation, all details far away. Like light on the surface of a lake, I’m floating free, barely attached to my body. There’s no more pain or discomfort, but color seeps from my world. I’m losing consciousness. I don’t care.

Eventually, Alexei turns his black eyes on the commander, his smile altogether too pleasant. “Why, Gabriel, so good to see you again. You know, when you tire of running with the dogs, you are welcome to come home.”

Flanagan’s eyes harden. “Let him go, Alexei.”

The prince sighs long and deep. “You will care for this one, Gabriel? I am leaving him in your trust.”

Flanagan answers with a growl. “He doesn’t belong to you, Alexei. None of them do. Now hand him over.”

Alexei’s eyes grow darker, a black storm of night and anger. “That is where you are wrong, Lycan. This one most certainly belongs to me.”

Flanagan meets Alexei’s intensity with his own. Not moving his eyes for a second, he throws the sword at the nearest Guardian and steps forward to peel me from the vampire’s arms. He sweeps all of my hundred-eighty-pounds-worth of lean muscle into a cradle lift as if I weigh nothing, then walks backward. “You can leave now, Alexei. And take your blood slaves with you.”

The two rivals glare at each other, the air between them ice-cold and potent. I sense the weight of unspoken history, some hidden communication only they understand. The Blood Servants gather behind their prince, the Guardians behind their commander. I have no idea which side won the battle. If any.

After an age, the vampire’s gaze falls back to me. Then with one mighty downward stroke of his wings, he lifts from the ground.