“Shit.” Ryker yanked her closer. “The impatient bastard’s seizing his moment, even if it gets you killed. Hollisworth won’t be happy, but by the time he reigns in his overzealous enforcer it could be too late.” He raised his voice to reach the other men on the team. “Close in around her and the ore—we can’t afford to lose either.”

She raised her ax higher. Tried to locate Pratt in the mad shuffle.

Behind her, an anguished roar sounded. “Ava!”

She didn’t look back. Couldn’t.

Her attackers had reached them.

She swung hard, swiping at the hands attempting to pull her from the tight circle.

“Not on my watch.” Ryker’s boot came down on a grasping wrist. A howl sounded. The hand disappeared.

Gratitude whispered through her.

Valdus’s men could easily have abandoned their posts and left her. After all, it wasn’t them the hordes wanted and their only proof that she and the ore could help them was her own assertion.

“Stand strong.” Ryker’s call to his men held nothing but determination.

“No other way to go.” Green-eyed Griffin buried his ax in the shoulder of a man who screamed and staggered back.

Bain uncorked one of the strange instruments jangling on his harness and tossed out the liquid inside. It splashed on the face and bodies of two advancing men. A bitter citrus smell soaked the air. The men screamed, dropped to their knees, their bodies writhing as they rubbed their eyes and shrieked.

But the hordes kept coming, trampling over the downed bodies, an army of feral, red-caked creatures ignited by bloodlust.

She and the others couldn’t hold out much longer.

Not even now that the drones had begun firing into the crowd.

And Draeke knew it.

Over the screaming, she heard his relentless commands. “Get her. Focus all your efforts on bringing those bastards down. Just make sure she’s alive. She must be alive.”

She stifled a shudder.

Griffin dropped to his knees. Crimson red splashed onto the ground.

She didn’t think. Just lunged forward and swung. Her ax sending his attacker stumbling back before he could finish the blow and deaden the flash of green in his gaze forever.

Ryker was there the next instant, shoving the bleeding man, and then her, into the middle of the circle before closing the hole they’d left.

But the circle was weakening.

Curling her arm under Griffin’s armpits, she half dragged, half yanked the wounded man deeper into the center—and would have gotten nowhere—except that he was backpedaling as well. She landed on her ass—and knocked into the pile of ore. Several jagged pieces tumbled from the sled.

But there was no time to retrieve them as Griffin rolled to the side, clutching his stomach, his eyes glazed with pain. “Don’t worry about me. Watch yourself.”

Tearing at what was left of the sleeve of her uniform, she yanked it off. Wadding it up and placing it on the wound.

His low groan left her flinching with sympathy.

A blast of nearby laser fire sent a rush of heat near her shoulder. Shrieks sounded. Rock exploded. Her flesh stung by debris as it imbedded in her cheek and neck, a thousand tiny sharp needles. Throwing her arms over Griffin, she covered the wounded man as best she could.

She knew what her husband was doing. Offering just enough aid through his droids to keep the mob at bay, but not enough to vanquish the attackers altogether. He wanted the pressure on her and Valdus’s men to continue. He wanted them to give her up—and he didn’t care who else he took out in the process.

“Carvter!” The agonized shout from Ryker drew her gaze.

Horror slammed through her as one of the men in their circle folded to his knees like an accordion. His head rolled from his neck in the next instant.

Bile and sorrow burned the back of her throat.

“No!” With an agonized roar, another teammate leapt toward where his friend had fallen—only to drop an arm’s length short, blood gushing from a wound in his thigh.

They were losing.

There was only one choice left.

“Save yourselves.” Jumping to her feet, she grabbed Ryker from behind. “Take the ore and Griffin and go.” She had to give her husband what he wanted. It was the only way.

Ryker stilled. His head cocking to the side as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.

“Go,” she screamed, “before anyone else dies. There’s a good chance Draeke won’t kill me. And…and I can survive whatever he has in store.” She sucked down a deep breath. “Come back for me if you can. It’s the only chance we have.”

Surprise, followed by determination flared in Ryker’s gaze. “No one’s leaving you with that animal…” He swallowed hard, his eyes suddenly cloudy, as if he’d gone somewhere else. “No woman should be left to suffer that kind of fate.”

The anguish in his voice stole her voice…for all of a heartbeat.

“I’m not worth dying for.” She shoved hard once more. “Go. For this Saralynee person. For Valdus.” Because somewhere along the way she’d begun to understand the depth of her captor’s caring for these men, even Ryker.

To recognize how significant their survival was to Valdus’s own.

The last thing she wanted was to play a part in taking them away from him.

“Stay alive to fight another day,” she urged the man at her side. “It’s the only way to take Hollisworth down once and for all.”

Ryker’s ax wavered in the air.