His shoulder slammed against a display shelf. Sharp stabs of pain lanced through him as muscles tore and tendons popped.
He bit back a groan, but allowed himself a few curses. Now he was injured, and his ill-advised dive had taken him farther from Katelyn.
Before Grayson could recover, the Cunt closest to the Seer bolted toward her and disappeared behind the counter.
A band of panic constricted inside Grayson’s chest. Katelyn was at the mercy of the Cunt.
Grayson had to disable the two Cunts in front of him before he could help her.
He poured more energy into his shield as he shot quick bursts of pink power toward the pair in front of him.
Blue sizzling energy crackled from behind the counter. Grayson ground his teeth. What had the Cunt done to Katelyn?
Surprise filtered through him again when she stood up. She held a small black instrument in front of her. It crackled blue energy of its own between two small metal tips.
Her green eyes blazed with anger as she glared from one Cunt to the other. She looked like a queen defending her castle.
A blue beam caught her in the stomach, and she screamed—an angry sound rather than one of pain or fear.
Red-hot rage seared Grayson’s insides, fueling his powers. If his future mate sustained any permanent damage, he would hunt down every last member of the Cunt clan.
He poured the energy born of adrenaline into the twin pink bolts he sent hurtling toward the remaining two attackers. The beams sliced through their shields like a knife through tissue paper. The bolts hit them squarely in the throats and their screams sent warm satisfaction through him.
The last two Cunts dropped to the floor in boneless heaps, and Grayson resisted the urge to kill them. He needed stamina to survive the trip between and to make sure Katelyn was safe—especially now that he’d have to use precious energy to function with his injuries.
Grayson’s shoulder throbbed, but the adrenaline racing through him numbed it enough so he could manage to cross the room. He circled around the display case and stepped over the downed Cunt to kneel next to the Seer.
Katelyn’s mane of unruly red hair was latticed over her face, and she groaned. He gently brushed the locks away before lifting her with his good arm, and hefting her over his shoulder. He bracketed his arm behind her knees to keep her from sliding, the thin material of her flowy skirt allowing him to feel every warm inch of her.
Her soft curves pressed against his chest and shoulder, causing his cock to spring to life inside his tight jeans. He groaned as he shifted to a more comfortable position. He didn’t have time for this. He had to get her to safety, then he could worry about the rest.
Gritting his teeth, Grayson raised his injured arm and drew a large portal in the air with his hand, using his last reserves of power. The air shimmered, and the portal expanded until it was an oval large enough for him to walk through.
He took one last look to ensure none of the Cunts could follow, and then stepped forward into the bone-chilling cold that was the between.
The air around them crackled with energy, sending a march of goose bumps over his skin.
Grayson shivered as the dark, still air surrounded them, making it difficult to breathe. He inhaled deeply, trying to find every last bit of oxygen in the thin air, and took a few minutes to let his body adjust to the vastly different environment. It was obvious why it had been named the between, but he still hated each and every trip through the portal.
The Seer groaned, and he laid his good hand on Katelyn’s shapely ass to keep her in place. Even in her unconscious state, she shivered and cuddled against him.
The tang of mold on the back of his tongue burst inside his senses and he pushed forward even as his stamina leached out into the abyss. He cursed the Cunts for causing him to expend all his energy before this trip between, and then cursed again when his voice was swallowed by the oppressive air surrounding them.
Each step became harder than the last, like walking through taffy.
Grayson’s limbs, suddenly heavy, dragged him down, each step forward harder than the last.
Then a small spark of light appeared just in front of him, signaling the portal point in the clearing just beyond the castle.
He reached out to draw another portal in the air in front of them, gritting his teeth against the blinding pain from his injured shoulder. The shimmering oval illuminated the blackness in front of him and then widened until it was large enough for him to step through.
As soon as he cleared the portal, the warmth of the Klatch sun began to chase away the cold, even as the portal snapped closed behind him. He slumped to his knees, careful not to jostle Katelyn, who lay limp over his good shoulder.
“Prince Grayson, are you hurt?”
It took a moment to make sense of the words after the muted sounds within the between. When he did understand what was said, he had to gather strength just to be able to nod.
Grayson’s vision blurred around the edges.
He was still coherent enough to recognize the speaker as a member of the Royal Guard, several of which stood in a line before him.
Grayson swallowed hard before he spoke. “I’ve found the Seer. Guard the portal so we aren’t followed by the Cunts who attacked us.”
The guard who had spoken and wore the dark purple livery of the royal family reached out to take the Seer’s limp body from him.
Grayson growled at the man. “Stand down. I can take care of my future mate without your help.”
The guard bowed and stepped back, his dark hair falling over his brow.
“Don’t be a damned fool, Grayson. Let them help you before you fall over and crush the poor woman. Then she’ll never get to discover what an ass you are.” King Stone stepped forward through the line of guards to stare at Grayson. His lavender eyes studied Grayson as though assessing injuries and damage.
Stone had recently become king when his wife, Alyssandra, had ascended the throne as queen. But Grayson would always think of Stone as one of his two oldest friends. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to calling Stone “King.”
Ever since he could remember, Stone had been one of the three—himself, Stone, and Prince Ryan—who were always in trouble or about to be. Wherever there was destruction or mayhem around the castle, all eyes turned toward the “Trio of Disaster,” as Stone’s mother, Darla, had called them.
Stone must’ve taken Grayson’s silence for assent because he reached out and lifted Katelyn from Grayson’s arms.
As soon as Stone held her safely, Grayson allowed himself to slump onto the warm grass, careful not to land on his injured shoulder. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, allowing the nourishing energy of his home world to seep into him. Even with that comfort, he knew it would take several days to heal if he didn’t seek out some sexual sustenance soon—especially with the ripped muscle and torn tendons.
As a Klatch witch, sexual energy was as much a needed sustenance as food or water. His race could survive for a while on only food and water, but they needed sexual energy to thrive and even to survive.
In fact, the reigning queen’s job was to maintain a symbiotic relationship with the planet of Tador—the home world of the Klatch. The king helped her build her sexual energy, and she in turn healed the planet, which sustained the Klatch people.
Grayson acknowledged he’d pushed himself too far, but it wasn’t like he’d had much choice. The Cunts would have taken the Seer if Grayson hadn’t acted.
The thought of replenishing his energy with some random Klatch maid when his future mate had finally been found didn’t appeal to him. In fact, it felt like a betrayal to her.