Chapter 52 · The Mate's Blade

"Get your hands off me, Rayne, or I swear I'll break your wrist."

My knife was already against his throat when the entire camp turned to watch us.

Rayne didn't move. His palm stayed wrapped around my forearm, hot against my skin, while his other hand hovered near the blade at his hip. His black command coat was torn across one shoulder. Blood ran from his temple to his jaw.

Mine wasn't the only blood on him.

Cole's blood stained my fingers.

"You can try," Rayne said.

"I already did. Three times. You keep catching me."

"Because you keep aiming for the wrong place."

His eyes dropped to my knife. Then they lifted back to mine, steady and sharp enough to make my pulse jump.

Behind him, soldiers ringed the training yard with drawn weapons. The pup was on the ground near the broken supply wall, wrapped in Rayne's torn cloak. One small hand pushed out of the fabric.

A red line pulsed beneath the child's chest.

My stomach dropped.

"Cole armed him," I said.