Nicholas Shadowfell had not slept.
It had been eighteen hours since Renwick Lunaris looked him in the face, and took Maddox Drakencrest's offer.
Damon, his Beta, was walking next to him, when the first thing happened. Terror flooded into his chest so hard his hand flew to his sternum and he stumbled.
Damon froze mid-step. "Nick?"
What came after was worse. Nicholas hunched over, grunting, his ribs on fire. Left side, cracking in a sequence too even. Then his hand seized.
Before he could process it, pressure closed around his throat. Tightening.
The kind of slow that meant whoever was doing this wanted her to feel every second. Nicholas felt every second too.
He looked up at Damon, his eyes glowing wolf-gold.
"She's being hurt." His voice was wrecked.
"Drakencrest is hurting her?"
"Someone is." Nicholas spat blood onto the cobblestones. "Lunaris is going to wish he'd taken my offer."
✦✦✦
Guinevere surfaced just enough to hear and not enough to move.
