Warrior's Hope (Dark Protectors #16)(95)

Startled, the entire group stopped fighting. Her uncles were bloodied and bruised, while Ulric was only panting heavily. It had been a difficult fight, but he definitely had the advantage.

“You can’t kill him. You can’t even hurt him,” she said.

“What are you doing?” Uncle Logan snapped, moving toward her.

“Stop,” she said pressing the knife in. If she put it directly above her heart, it would split in three and shatter her breastbone. “One of you is going to have to take my heart.” They all looked at her, stunned anger in their gazes. “It’s the only way,” she said. “I can open myself, but you’ll have to actually take the heart and shove it down his throat.”

“Your heart is mine,” Paxton growled, his voice carrying easily on the frigid air.

Adare and Ivar pivoted around Ulric and secured his arms, kicking him in the back of the knees and knocking him to the ground. He struggled, but they could hold him in place on his knees. They just couldn’t hurt him.

Ivar shook his head. “That’s not the solution. We’re going to put everything we have down his throat. There’s enough blood to commingle in there and do something.”

“No,” she said softly. “There isn’t. I’m sorry. I’ve read the dragon-skin tome. I know what to do. My heart is the only thing that will work.” She tried to avoid looking at Paxton, but finally she couldn’t help it. Then she was sorry she did. His eyes had gone cold, flat, hard. They were silvery-blue metal, and they could freeze her in place.

“Don’t,” he said. One word fiercely spoken, his voice soft as always with that thread of danger.

She shivered. “Pax.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” he asked.

She bit her lip until she tasted blood. “There is no question. I read the ancient book, and I feel it in my soul. My heart is the sacrifice, Paxton. I already drank their blood. It’s inside me. There’s no other way.” She willed him to believe her and let her go.

“No.” Blurring with speed, he was on her, moving faster than she would’ve ever thought possible, grabbing the knife and throwing it across the field.

“Damn it, Pax,” she snapped. “That was our only option.”

“Wrong.” He lifted her with one arm around her waist, tangled his other hand in her hair, and yanked her head back—not gentle, not even close. His fangs sliced into her neck. She cried out as he drank, taking what he wanted.

Finally, he stopped, licked the wound clean. Then he kissed her in front of everybody. Her family, the soldiers, the enemy. He kissed her hard, making a claim that nobody could miss. She kissed him back, knowing he was everything she could ever want. He was hard and he was demanding, and yet he was still Paxton. Still sweet. Maybe not at the moment, but she could taste it on his tongue.

Then he released her and placed her back on her feet. She staggered for a minute and then settled, her eyes wide, her mind fuzzy. His nostrils flared, and crimson slid across his cheekbones for a moment. He swallowed and took several deep breaths, still silent and predatory. “Who is your heart, Hope?”

She blinked. “What?”

“I told you, your heart belongs to me. Is that true?”

She couldn’t see a way to answer that would get her out of doing what she needed to do. But then again, she could never lie to Paxton. “Yes, you have my heart.”

“You are mine,” he said. “And you know what? I think I’m yours.”

He reached for a Kurjan blade from his boot and drew it out.

“No,” she cried out. “No, that’s not what I wanted.”

“Too bad. This is how we’re going to end this,” he said.

He jammed the blade into his chest and hit the mechanism. It split into three, slicing open his breastbone above his heart, right where she’d marked him. “Jesus,” he muttered.

Blood flowed, spraying in every direction.

“Holy fuck,” Dage snarled.

“Vero.” Paxton looked at his brother. “I need another knife.”

Vero stepped up. “I’m not letting you do this.”

“Only take half,” Paxton said.

Vero’s eyebrows rose. “It’s an idea.” He drew out a knife and yanked Paxton’s chest toward him.

Paxton gasped and dropped to one knee. “Make it quick,” he ordered.

“Stop,” Hope said, grabbing Vero’s left arm.

“No, he is right,” Vero said. He shoved the knife into Pax’s chest and sliced, bringing out a quarter of Paxton’s heart. The entire area was deadly silent. He lifted it up.

Paxton groaned and clutched his hand to his breastbone, shoving it back in place. “Help me up.”

Vero ducked his shoulder beneath Paxton’s arm while Hunter ran forward and took the other one, both of them helping Paxton to his feet. Paxton was stark white, and blood still flowed from his chest.

“Here.” Hunter sliced his wrist open and pressed it to Paxton’s mouth.

Pax drank quickly, his gaze hard on Ulric, taking the piece from Vero.

Ulric watched the proceedings, his mouth slightly open as if he couldn’t believe it.

Paxton pushed Hunter’s wrist away. “I’m okay. Get me to him.”

They strode across the battlefield to where Ulric struggled on his knees. “This isn’t going to...” the Cyst leader started.