Casteel snapped forward again. The chain jerked him back sharply. I cried out as he staggered and went down on one knee.
“That is not Cas,” Kieran whispered, shaking.
Those four words threatened to destroy me. “But we can get him back. He just needs to feed. I’ll be fine. He can’t kill me.” I pulled at Kieran’s arm. When he didn’t let go, I twisted toward him, our faces inches apart. “Kieran—”
“I know.” Kieran clasped the back of my neck, pulling my forehead to his. “He needs to feed, but he doesn’t recognize you, Poppy,” he repeated. “He will hurt you. I can’t stand here and allow that. I don’t want to see that happen to you. I don’t want to see how it will fucking destroy him when he comes out of the bloodlust and realizes what he’s done.”
Another shudder hit me. “But I need to help him—”
“What my brother needs is to feed and have the time for that to pull him out of bloodlust. He may need multiple feedings. Something we don’t have the time for here,” Malik said, shoving shorter strands of hair back from his face. “We need to get him out of here. Someplace safe where we have time.” A muscle throbbed in his temple as he stared at his brother. “I know of a place. If we can get him there, we’ll be good for at least a day or two.”
“Are you serious?” Kieran exploded as Casteel’s head whipped around. “You expect us to trust you?”
Malik’s lips thinned. “You don’t have much choice, do you?”
“Literally walking out of here and into the arms of that bitch Queen is a better choice,” Kieran spat.
“Come on, man. You know we can’t feed him here. You know he needs time.” Malik’s eyes were as bright as citrine jewels as he faced off with Kieran. “If we try to do that here, we’re going to get caught, and all of us—yes, all of us—are going to wish we were dead.”
That couldn’t happen. “How do we get him out of here?”
“You really want to risk this?” Kieran demanded. “With him?”
“How long does it take to recover from bloodlust?” I asked instead of answering. “How long before the person can become enough of themselves again?”
Kieran sucked in air, but no words came out. Looking away, he dragged his hand over his face.
“We don’t have a choice,” I said, softening my voice. “Malik knows that. I know that. You do, too. So, how do we get him out of here?”
Kieran’s hand fell to his side. “We’ll have to knock him out.”
My throat dried. “We have to hurt him?”
“It’s the only way.” Kieran shook his head. “And then hope he stays unconscious long enough.”
Heart hurting, I turned back to Casteel. He thrashed, reaching for me. I saw nothing of him in his face. His eyes. “I…I don’t know if I can do it without hurting him more. I’ve never used the essence for something like that, and I—”
“I can do it,” Malik said. “Kieran, I’m going to need you to distract him long enough for me to get behind him.”
Kieran gave a sharp nod and then made his move, stepping around me. A second later, Malik rushed under the chain. Casteel whipped around, but Malik was already behind him. He folded an arm around Casteel’s throat, clamping down on his windpipe with what I knew was likely one squeeze away from crushing that cartilage.
Casteel threw himself back, knocking Malik into the wall, but Malik held on, squeezing and squeezing as Casteel clawed at his arms, at the air—
I wanted to look away. I wanted to close my eyes and scream, but I forced myself to see this. To watch until Casteel’s movement became sluggish and blurred and he finally went limp in Malik’s arms.
It took minutes.
Minutes I knew would haunt me.
“Gods,” Malik grunted, gently laying Casteel down. He looked over his shoulder at the wall. “The chains? They’re in there pretty well.”
“Reaver?” I rasped. “Can you break them?”
The draken strode forward, kneeling near the wall. He looked over at us. “I would suggest leaving the chains on him until we know he’s calm.”
“No.” I stepped forward. “I want the chains off.”
“I want them off, too,” Kieran said. “But we’ll probably need them when he wakes up.”
“Yeah,” Malik agreed. “The last thing we need is for him to get away from us.”