I would protect them all.

I would do whatever it took to kill.

Another burst of fury flowed through me.

Speed made my fists blur and his grunts sound weaker.

Soon.

Soon it would be over, and he would be dead.

Something soft tugged on my shoulder. A voice I couldn’t place tried to wriggle its way through the carnage of memories and mayhem.

“Kas, stop. You have to stop.”

Quell?

No, this voice wasn’t as timid.

Sarez?

No, this one begged me to stop not to keep going.

“Kas, please!”

I threw another strike.

The man jerked as if his body couldn’t take much more.

Triumph blazed through me.

He was close.

Just a little more and he’d be dealt with.

“Kas, you’re killing him!”

I grinned. Good. That was the point.

I struck again and again.

I lost sensation and welcomed numbness instead.

“KAS!” Hands scratched at my neck, trying to pull me away. The scent of papaya and woodsmoke filled my head.

Gemma!

My soul recognized her.

My entire purpose was to protect and cherish her.

I loved her.

I would do whatever it took to keep her safe.

Fury struck a match on my hatred and anger, renewing my need to kill this trespasser. He’d had his hands on her. He’d. Hurt. Her. He’d made her cry out. He’d put bruises on her skin and fear in her heart.

No.

Never fucking again.

I drove my fist into his motherfucking jaw.

He yelled something.

Gemma screamed something.

I ignored it all.

I was done with this.

He would die.

Immediately.

Rocking onto my knees, I wrenched my arm back, ready to deliver the final blow. I blinked back ghosts and memories. I focused on the forest where we fought and not the dorm where we’d hidden as slaves.

I bared my teeth and swung.

Gemma threw herself on top of the crumpled, bloody man beneath me. “Don’t!” She curled up over his head, putting herself in harm’s way, forcing me to roll to the side so I didn’t hit her.

Shoving upright, I roared, “Get the fuck away, Gemma! Let me finish this.”

“You can’t.” She cradled his head, sending violent jealousy through me. “It’s Jareth!”

Jareth?

The kid who’d endured two weeks of punishment and returned to us soulless.

The brother who scared me even while I’d done my best to protect him.

The family I’d killed to set free.

Gemma sat up, revealing the man she’d protected.

One blue eye, one brown eye.

Awfully familiar and horribly real.

Drenched in blood from my fists.

Jareth.

I choked.

The world ceased existing.

My headache returned in full crippling force. My vision stuttered. Vertigo slammed into me. I wobbled on my knees as I gasped for breath.

How?

Where?

I don’t understand.

And then, whiteness.

Nothing but fucking whiteness as my mind folded in on itself.

All the memories I’d let loose.

All the hatred I’d set free.

The bittersweet freedom and sanity I’d felt all sucked back inside me.

A vortex of pain, history, and disease.

It ricocheted back on me.

It cracked my mind apart.

I blacked out.

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CHAPTER THREE

I WENT FROM PROTECTING one man to caring for another.

Scrambling away from Jareth’s blood-covered body, I crawled as fast as I could to Kas as he toppled sideways onto the ground. He landed with a heavy thud, loose and unconscious.

“Shit.” I cradled his head on my lap, pushing away his long dark hair while pulling a few leaves from his strands. “It’s okay, Kas. Just breathe.”

I didn’t know if he could hear me.

I didn’t know what to do.

What made him black out?

Would he have any memory of this when he woke?

He lay prone and lifeless in my arms while Jareth slowly pushed himself onto his ass and breathed hard. He slumped forward over his knees, doing his best to shake off the beating he’d just received.

A few moments passed before he groaned, sucked in a tattered breath, and gingerly raised both arms to run though his bloody hair. He winced and groaned again, rolling his shoulders, slowly assessing his damage.

He didn’t look so great.

I was torn in two.

A part of me had loyalty only to Kas. I would fight with everything I had if Jareth decided to pay Kas back for his attack. But the other part of me filled with hope.

When Kas had launched himself at Jareth, he’d been different.

He’d been...alive.

Something had sparked awake inside him, shoving past his pain, his stubbornness, and all the other mess he swam in.

He’d been real—more real and vibrant than I’d seen since arriving in this godforsaken valley. Something had clicked into place inside him as he’d let loose and given in to his rage.

Yes, he’d been hell-bent on killing Jareth. And yes, he’d been absolutely terrifying, but he’d seemed sane. Honest with who he was and what he was capable of.

As he’d swung punch after punch, using his entire body as a weapon against his enemy, it’d seemed as if he’d found a piece of himself that he’d lost. A piece he’d stopped running from and embraced wholeheartedly.

He’d been so fast. So strong. So vicious.

But it’d been more than that.

For the first time since I’d met Kas, he’d looked...whole.

And it was the best thing I’d ever seen. His eyes had been clear of ghosts. His determination had been true, even if it’d been murderous.

He’d seemed free.

“Is he breathing?” Jareth croaked, spitting a wad of blood onto a bush beside him.

I ran my hand over Kas’s cheek, checking his vitals. “Yes. He’s just passed out.”

“Well, wake him up. We need to talk.”

I looked up, my hackles still raised thanks to this stranger with soulless eyes, even if he and Kas thought of each other as brothers. How much should I tell him about Kas’s ongoing issues? What would be beneficial, and what would be a betrayal of Kas’s trust?

Jareth saved me from making a choice by muttering, “He’s different.”

I stiffened. “What do you expect after a decade? Everyone becomes different with time.”

He narrowed his eyes, the left side of his face rivered with blood from a cut on his temple. “We both know that’s not what I meant.” Digging his hands into the dirt, he sucked in a pained breath as he slowly, gingerly pushed to his feet. He wobbled a little, hopping on his right leg, unwilling to put too much weight on his left.

Had Kas broken anything?

Seemed I had two patients in this valley now, instead of just one.

“Does he do that often?” Jareth cocked his head at Kas unconscious on my lap.

I bit the inside of my cheek, still unsure of how much to share. “He...hasn’t been well. He fell a few weeks ago and...has had a bad concussion ever since.”

Jareth spat another mouthful of blood on the grass. Unzipping his jacket, he grabbed the hem of his T-shirt underneath and wiped his face, trying to avoid getting more blood in his eyes as multiple cuts kept oozing. Black shadowing already framed his blue eye, and bruising had begun to gather along his jaw. Kas had been ruthless.

Only once Jareth had tended to his facial injuries—finding yet another cut on his chin and swelling on his cheekbone—did he make eye contact again. “It’s not just the concussion causing him to pass out.”

I sat taller. “Are you a doctor?”

He snorted, his laugh derisive and almost uncaring. “Do I look like a doctor?”

“You could have studied anything since you left here. A decade is a long time.”