Page 59 of Protected By the Elf Prince

“You.” The word rolled free, making the man frown. “You signed them off.”

Both men froze before Hawthorne’s expression turned murderous.

Ah, fuck.

“Shit,” Martin muttered.

The punch came faster this time, and more pain collided with the rest across my face.

The chair rocked violently.

Stars exploded behind my eyes.

Hawthorne grabbed my shirt again, hard enough to choke me. “What else do you know?”

“Nothing.”

Another shake. “What else?”

“Nothing!”

Hawthorne raised his fist again.

Then—

A roar echoed outside. The sound rolled through the warehouse like thunder, making everyone freeze.

The noise came again, but it was louder, closer, and powerful.

My heart skipped, then started to race as warmth exploded over the ink on my wrist.

Dashiel.

He was close.

Yes. God, yes. Dashiel’s here.

He’s here.

My elf is here.

He’ll help me. Save me.

Hawthorne noticed my expression immediately. “What? Why the fuck are you smiling?”

A half-hysterical and half-relieved laugh escaped me.

Hawthorne frowned. “What are you laughing at?”

I grinned, knowing blood coated my teeth, and I probably looked crazed. Yet, I didn’t care. Not even when it made my lip throb and face hurt. “You seriously messed with the wrong person.”

Hawthorne’s eyes narrowed.

Outside, another roar shook the building before heat washed briefly through the warehouse. Not enough to burn but enough to warn and terrify.

It made Hawthorne’s expression shift for the first time to fear. He open-palm slapped me. “Who the fuck is that?”

My grin widened. “That’s my fated mate.”