Connor! I tried to reach out to him. To protect him. But from what?
“Where's Connor?” My voice was harsh, raspy.
“He should be coming. I'm surprised he hasn't barged through the door yet.”
A jab to my heart. My barriers crashed. Pain enveloped me. Fear consumed me. Connor's presence wrapped around me. Sank into me. But his warmth was fading with every second. “Something's wrong.”
“Honey, I think you just need to lie down. You've been fighting the imprint for longer than you should've been.” Bryn spoke softly, but didn't try to heal me. Her hands lay awkwardly in her lap.
“No, it's more than that. I can feel him. I sense his pain.”
I called to Connor again, trying to connect to him on a level that didn't exist yet. Bryn and Liam could speak and call each other. Connor and I couldn't. If he wasn't my mate, we never would. Right now, I needed him. Even if it was just for my peace of mind. My comfort. I wanted him to swagger through that door and make some smart-ass comment, but I knew he wouldn't.
I focused everything I had on him. “I see fire.” A lot of fire—and a sword. “Bryn, he's back!” I ran for the door. She didn't need me to clarify who he was. Only one man in the world would send that gut-wrenching fear into us. Gabriel.
“Aylin, wait!” she called.
But too late. I was already out the door and headed for my black beast of a truck.
***
Time stopped. Everything slowed except the roar of my truck barreling down the road. My hands gripped the steering wheel. I floored the gas. My tires squealed around a sharp curve; still, I raced forward.
The imprint on my wrist burned. Darkness caused the light to weaken and fade. Black strands circled my half-moon, trying to envelope it. I swerved off the road—too enthralled with the changes in my imprint.
I ran a stop sign. A horn blared. But I refused to slow down.
Connor, I called. Chanting a healing charm, I forced it to him, trying to connect my bond with his—if he had one. If he was mine. Doubt clouded my vision, but I washed it away.
He needed me.
I turned left, heading straight for Murphy's Bar. My mind pulled me back to the outskirts of town and Connor's brief touch upon my skin earlier that night. When I felt a slight shift in my imprint. It was such a small alteration, but it changed everything.
Last call would have been announced by now. Patrons would be stumbling home to their wives or partners, but I sped forward.
Red flames flashed through my eyes. Melded into a sword. A forward thrust.
A guttural scream chased away the images.
It came from me.
I was still screaming when I swung into Murphy's parking lot. Gravel flew. My truck skidded as I slammed on the brakes beside Connor's Hummer.
I headed for Murphy’s door. Each step sent chills down my spine.
A slight movement stopped me in my tracks. Just the briefest flicker of motion to the right of the Hummer had caught my eye. A motionless dark figure lay crumpled on the ground beside Connor's vehicle.
For a nanosecond in time, I froze. My bravery, my training, my need to rescue Connor—Gone.
My world spun with the onslaught of blood that rushed through my body once my heart decided to beat again. I stumbled forward. “Connor.” My voice faltered, and I hated how weak I sounded.
“Aylin,” he whispered. “I'm sorry.”
“Shit! Where are you hurt?” I frantically ran my hands down his arms, moving to his face, chest, and lower. I cursed the dim lighting of the parking lot. When my fingers skimmed across his toned chest, they became warm and sticky with blood.
I pressed my hands over the wound.
He sucked in a breath and placed his hands over mine. “Gab—”
“I know. I saw.”
“How?” His voice was low and hoarse.
I ignored him. I didn't have time to explain about my imprint. I needed to save him. His light was fading.
Bryn would know what to do. I should've waited for her! But she wasn't here.
Think!
My imprint glowed brighter. Power swam through me like a drug. It sparked life into my heart and soul. Connor's essence called to me like a siren, low and sweet. I felt him falling deeper into the abyss. I needed to act.
Bryn practiced her magic by pulling it from one being to the next. Almost like a form of meditation. I closed my eyes and focused on healing energies. I melded them in a similar fashion to how the sword had been wielded in my mind. I felt the instinctual pull to release the energy and forced it toward Connor.
My hands glowed with the force of my magic. Connor's face paled against the darkness, and his vacant stare scared the hell out of me. I couldn't lose him.
Calling my magic, I chanted every spell I knew that increased strength and virility. He needed to live. He was my mate. Screw the imprint and its cruel games. He was mine whether he was imprinted or not.
“Connor, come back to me,” I shouted in between chants. “I need you.”
The black strands encompassing my half-moon faded. Darkness consumed by the light. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but when Connor opened his eyes and looked into mine, I didn't care. My magic was working. He was coming back to me.
“Aylin.” He ran a cool hand against the side of my face.
When he spoke my name, I couldn't help the tears that fell.
“Hon, don't cry for me.”
I wiped at the tears and cursed his blood smeared on my face. The bleeding from the wound stopped, but he was still weak and made no move to rise.
“Shh.” He moved his hand behind my neck and pulled my face close to his. “It's okay, I'm here.” He spoke as if he knew
