Cas didn’t know what he’d been expecting when he’d told Iris to go along with Ethan’s demands, but when she stepped in front of him, willingly shielding him from the gun aimed in their direction, he felt his heart stop. He knew the rebels wanted him dead and that it was entirely likely they would shoot him where he stood. It wasn’t like he wanted to be killed either. However, he’d rather they shot him than go through her to get to him, which was the very situation she was putting them in by standing between him and the other two men. Judging by the feral look in her ex-boyfriend’s eyes, he might actually put a bullet in both their hearts if that was what it took to have his way too.

[color=#b97703]“Iris, stop it,”[/color] he hissed, panic written on his face now that she was putting herself in danger alongside him. He’d given up for the sake of making sure she stayed safe. If she was going to openly take his side and fight Ethan, his efforts were pointless. Injured and unarmed, they were outmatched by the rebels, so their chances of getting away were slim to none. The only logical choice here was for him to surrender, hope they wouldn’t shoot him between the eyes, and pray that they wouldn’t be too harsh on her for helping him escape the first time.

Unfortunately, it seemed like he and Iris were [i]not[/i] on the same page, because she began trying to reason with Ethan. Inwardly, he groaned, predicting that negotiating would get them nowhere. The rebels’ goal was to sever the lineage of the crown, as had been made quite clear to him by Regis on multiple occasions. It didn’t matter what they thought of him. That he was Atlas’s son gave them all the cause they needed to kill him and pretend like they had done Aspiria a major service by doing so.

As Ethan mocked Iris and aimed his weapon at her, Cas felt a mixture of fear and anger stir inside his chest. He narrowed his eyes, loathing the way the other man spoke down to her as if she was stupid. Getting to know her, he knew she was anything but. He wanted to leap to her defense, to tell Ethan that he was the one who should shut up, but with a gun fixated on her heart, he was smart enough to bite his tongue. He didn’t trust her ex-boyfriend not to kill her if he said something that would make him mad. Unless they had a way to turn the tables on the rebels, he needed to stay focused on keeping her alive.

Yet again, Iris’s agenda was apparently vastly different from his own. Cas’s eyes widened as she suddenly lunged at Ethan, grappling with him for the gun. For half a second, he worried that she was going to get herself shot, but he didn’t have time to think about it for long. In the next moment, he came to his senses as he realized that Thomas was springing at him with one arm cocked back to swing.

It wasn’t the turn of events he’d been expecting, and he’d never been in a real fight before—even the one with Regis had just been an act of self-defense—but he fell into the rhythm almost instinctively. As Thomas threw a punch at him, he quickly dove to the side, so the other man’s fist only grazed his cheek and then pivoted on his foot to return the blow. The rebel didn’t seem to have anticipated that he would fight back, so his punch hit its mark. His fist crashed into Thomas’s jaw, and the rebel staggered. Surprise flickered across his features for no longer than a second before he leapt again, and they brawled, grasping at clothes and exchanging heated blows as they raced to overpower each other.

Cas’s first impulse had been to flee, but now that Iris’s life was being threatened too, he couldn’t leave her behind. Despite her desperate command for him to run, he stayed, doing his best to fend off Thomas so that he could join her in her scrap with Ethan. In the back of his head, he found it fascinating how the surge of adrenaline cushioned every strike his opponent managed to land. He was vaguely aware of the pain when Thomas punched him in the jaw or kicked at his knees, but it wasn’t enough to discourage him from fighting back. He stayed on his feet, using everything he could to gain an edge over the rebel.

Unfortunately, he didn’t take into account the fact that determination alone wasn’t enough to win against someone who had more experience than he did. As he threw another punch at Thomas’s head, the rebel took him by surprise, catching hold of his arm and twisting it until he he’d pinned the limb tightly behind his back. Cas grimaced painfully and drove the elbow of his free arm back into the other man’s ribcage, but Thomas merely grunted and pinned that arm as well.

The motion jarred his injured bicep, and the prince bit his lip to stifle a cry as the torn muscles were contorted agonizingly. Desperate to break free from his hold, he stomped his foot down on Thomas’s shoe, but his effort only made the rebel twist his arms further behind his back.

“God damn it!” Thomas snarled, apparently pained by the trick even though it hadn’t worked. “Stop fighting or I’ll dislocate your fucking arms.”

[color=#b97703]“Let me go!”[/color] Cas snapped back, struggling against his grip. In response, the rebel twisted his arms again, and he gasped as pain shot through his shoulders. He’d dislocated his shoulder once before when he’d played rugby, and he could tell that Thomas was getting dangerously close to ripping his arms from their sockets.

Reluctantly, he stopped writhing and panted to catch his breath, spitting blood on the ground from a cut on the inside of his mouth that had opened after Thomas had punched him in the jaw. He hadn’t given up just yet, but he needed a breather and wouldn’t have a chance of winning if the other man followed through with his threat to dislocate his arms. Still concerned about Iris, he looked up to find her and Ethan, hoping she was okay.