She turned to Nicholas. "Shift and run. You can come back for me."
Her emotions had tapped out and this was just pure logic. She'd accepted it and planned on fully giving these fae hell, but that was that.
Something cold moved behind Nicholas's eyes. "No."
"Your window is closing. You can't help me if you're dead or captured."
Nicholas ignored it.
Fifteen more fae materialized at his flanks, one with a blade to Damon's neck. Another dropped in front of Guinevere, dark steel pressing against the junction of her throat and shoulder, the exact spot where a marking bite would go.
A blade pressed against Nicholas's throat from behind. He went still.
"Knees. All three."
Nicholas calculated. Three blades. Three throats. Zero angles. His Beta's eyes found his across the clearing, and the look that passed between them was the look of men who had been in impossible positions before and had never been in one this impossible.
