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The seriousness in his voice has me tensing, I swallowed. “You didn't.”

“You stupid fucking bastard.”

“Lucien.”

“No.” His voice cracked with fury.

“You went after Ceasar alone.”

“I nearly had him.”

“And then you nearly fucking died.”

“I didn't.”

“Because Volken fed you enough blood to keep your heart going!” Volken stared out the window. Draugr said nothing which was worse.

I looked at him. “Say it.”

His pale eyes met mine. “You have a mate waiting for you.”

“I know.”

“You have a child coming.”

“I fucking know.”

“Then act like it.” The words landed hard. Draugr leaned forward. “You don't get to throw yourself away anymore.”

My jaw clenched as I answered. “I wasn't.”

“Yes, you fucking were.” He pointed toward the wound. “You saw Ceasar and forgot everything else.” I wanted to argue but couldn't because he was right. I looked down at my hands. Bryn, our child, my family.

“I heard her voice,” I said quietly. Nobody spoke. “And suddenly I didn't give a fuck about Ceasar.” Volken looked at me. “I just wanted to get home.” His expression softened.

“Then that's what we're doing.” I leaned my head back, the wound still burned, my body felt heavy, too heavy but the bond remained. Bryn, waiting, worried but she was alive. My hand moved to my chest. I had nearly killed Ceasar tonight, but I failed. Next time, I would. But next time I wouldn't forget what I was fighting to return to.

I closed my eyes. Somewhere ahead of us was home, my mate, my unborn child and behind us, Ceasar had escaped with an army of demons and confirmation of something we'd feared for weeks. Malakai wasn't simply gathering forces, he had already built them. This wasn't a threat anymore, it wasn't preparation, it wasn't some fucking message because this was a declaration that the war had started.

The SUV took the final corner hard enough to throw Lucien against the door. “Easy, you fucking idiot!” he shouted at the driver.

“Don't slow down,” Volken snapped at exactly the same time.

“Helpful,” Draugr muttered.

I would have laughed if breathing didn't feel like someone dragging a serrated blade through my fucking insides. The wound was getting worse, I knew it, they knew it but nobody said it. Volken had both hands pressed against my abdomen. The shirt we'd packed against the wound had been soaked through minutes ago, replaced, then soaked through again. My body should have closed the fucking thing already. Even a wound that deep should have started knitting together.

Instead, the edges had turned dark, black veins crawled beneath my skin around the wound, thin at first, then spreading outward like cracks through glass. Demon poison, every fucking heartbeat pushed it farther. My vampire blood fought it, my brothers' blood fought it but the poison kept fucking winning. “Stop looking at me like that,” I growled.

Lucien's eyes lifted from my stomach. “Like what?”

“Like I'm fucking dying.”

Nobody answered and my temper flared. “I am not fucking dying.”

“Then heal,” Draugr ordered.

I looked at him. His expression was stone, but I knew my brother. I'd known him for centuries. The way his fingers repeatedly tightened around the hilt of the blade across his thigh told me everything his face didn't. Fear. Draugr was fucking afraid. That scared me because Draugr didn’t fear much. I tried to shift upright but pain detonated through my abdomen.