“Jonah!” I scream at the top of my lungs as tears slip down my face. Kyan growls, and I see his eyes are filled with shadows. His lips crash against mine to muffle my scream.
“You are mine!” he snarls. “And I’ll prove it!” he says, nipping at my lips, and I feel his thumb press against my clit. Sparks rush through my body despite not wanting them to. Kora growls, and my canines slip out, and I bite his lips as hard as I can. Kyan jerks back, his grip loosens on my wrists. My hand moves quickly as I slap him hard across the face.
The sound seems to echo around the room, and he stops baring his teeth and growling at me. He seems to freeze for a second, his eyes flick to their normal red-black color briefly before his eyes blaze once more to the gray swirling shadows and I know he isn’t there. I know that isn’t Kaif.
“Enough, now get off me, Kyan! You will regret this!” I yell at him, struggling against his weight. Fear envelops me. I am useless against him. Everything I do is futile, and just thinking about what he might do next terrifies me.
“I said get off!” I scream at him, and he groans as his hands run under my shirt and sparks rush everywhere, but every part of my mind is screaming, it isn’t supposed to be like this. I don’t want it to be like this. Kora wants to shift to deal with him but also does not want to hurt him, which pisses me off because he is hurting us.
“Flataska Potenza,” says the strange voice I heard the night Rose was attacked, and I try to understand.
“Flataska Potenza,” it says again and keeps repeating.
“Kyan, stop, fucking stop!” I tell him, trying to shove him off. My hands smack into his chest, and I thrash beneath him while his hands rip at my blouse, tearing the buttons and ripping it right open.
“Say it,” the voice urges, and I don’t know why I listen, why I trust this imaginary voice in my head, but I slam my hands into his chest.
“Flataska Potenza!” I scream at him.
Power surges through my palms, burning hot when his weight is suddenly gone. His body crashes into the wall behind him. It is as if a force had shoved him off with a strength that isn’t anything like I have seen before except that one night. His body crashes through the wall and into the spare bedroom, leaving a gaping hole while I lay there shaking at what I just did.
For a moment, time seems to stand still, the beating of our hearts loud in the silence.
“Kyan?” I whisper while getting off the couch. I can’t see anything but I hear him make a pained groan. The glass from the light bulbs crunches under my feet, and pain radiates through me with each step and I feel the insides of my thighs are slick and between my legs is throbbing.
“I can’t heal you for some reason,” Kora whines, yet I am at war, unable to choose between running and checking on him.
I glance at the door, debating whether this is my only chance to escape, and no doubt it is. However, I need to know he is alright, that I didn’t hurt him or, worse, kill my mate. Surely I would feel if he were dying, wouldn’t I?
He groans again, then gets to his hands and knees, the ripple of energy around is now gone but I see a piece of steel going through his abdomen. A shriek leaves me and my stomach plummets as I stare down at him.
What have I done? Kyan grunts as he reaches for it and he pulls it out, dropping the piece of rebar from the wall on the ground beside him. The large clang makes my heart skip a beat as the sound rings in the room.
“He’s hurt,” Kora whimpers, and I step through the hole in the wall.
“I know, but I had no other choice. He was going to hurt us, Kora.” I try to explain and focus my gaze on him. “Kyan?” I whisper, and he freezes as a growl slips out of him.
Marabella
“Where did you hear that?” he hisses. I can hear the anger in his voice, but I also can also hear the strain in his voice. He is still in pain.
“It came to me,” I answer shortly, not wanting to tell him I hear voices in my head. How nuts does that sound? He laughs; the sound is hysterical.
“Of course it did,” he laughs, dusting himself off and standing up. He lifts his shirt. The bar has punctured through his lower stomach and hip but is still bleeding as he staggers. I gasp at the amount of blood he is losing and worry sets in.
“Why aren’t you healing?” I ask hesitantly, only for him to laugh once again. What is he finding so funny? This is serious.
“Because I drugged Kaif,” he says, putting pressure on it. I look around frantically for something to stop the bleeding. Come on, Marabella, focus.
“I’m fine, Ella, just go,” he says quietly, nudging his head to the side. His breathing is slow, and his face is becoming pale.
“You are bleeding everywhere,” I tell him when he slides down the dresser beside the newly made entry. His breathing is ragged and labored.
“Just get Jonah, though I would say he’s already on his way, no way he didn’t feel that,” Kyan chokes out, coughing as blood sprays everywhere, and I wipe my face, pulling back my hand it is covered in blood from him.
“Sorry,” he murmurs while I put pressure on his wound. Is he apologizing about the blood or the fact he was planning to rape me? The thought makes my stomach sink, but I don’t question it, simply pushing the thought away.
“How long does it usually take to heal?” I ask quietly.
“Not sure, I have never not had Kaif to heal me,” he answers, though the color in his face is draining right out of him, his skin clammy. He falls quiet for a few minutes and I don’t say anything either. I feel his wound closing beneath my hand and pull back to see it slowly closing.
“See, I am fine; you didn’t kill me, what a shame,” he mutters, giving a light cough as he tries to stifle a laugh.