“No influence here, Seath,” Caine warned. And Seath nodded, stepping back with leaden feet. He didn’t trust himself not to lend energy to his mate in this work.
“By knot of four, ‘tis weakened more.”
“By knot of five, no longer may it thrive.” A shiver wracked through Lycan’s body, as if it was possessed of its own means. He was pale now, sweat flowing from his brow and a low moan escaped him.
“To the end now,” Titania cautioned. “No half-measures. It cannot snap back into place, we must keep unraveling.”
Her breaths came labored, as did her speech. She wasn’t sweating, but the work the coven was doing was deep into the magic and intense. At the halfway point, fatigue was evident on all.
“By knot of six, the end we fix.”
Lycan’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. His breathing was heavy and staggered as he worked to draw in a breath. A slow trickle of blood began to flow from his nose.
“By knot of seven, the Moon of heaven.”
A ripple then, across the surface of his skin. Lycan’s wolf responding to the invocation of the moon.
“By knot of eight, the body of fate.”
A pause pulled through the group, and they seemed to move as one entity, racing to a conclusion.
“By knot of nine, the spellunbind.”
A whoosh of breath left Lycan and Seath could see the anchor knots fall away, and then the knots tied to that string, and the next, and the next. It was a domino effect of untangled knots flowing throughout the pattern they could see.
It was too much mind magic and Seath almost panicked, dark spots threatening his vision that was swimming before him as it was. The vines fell away, allowing him closer to Lycan, but then Caine’s hand was in his, pressing Seath’s hand to Lycan’s rising and falling chest.
“Now you give him your energy,” Caine said, as Lycan screamed out in agony, clutching his head.
Seath grabbed for Lycan, holding him close as could be and lending him all the strength he had. He felt it pulse and flow out of him, Lycan’s depleted state soaking it up like a sponge. The mating mark seemed dull along with the rest of Lycan’s skin, and Seath rubbed it with one hand, while his other was anchored in Lycan’s hair, and his strong arms kept the omega pressed to him.
Lycan was cold, his mind a jumble of flashes and images. His breaths were still labored and heavy.
Then, the picture faded, and Seath could no longer see the maze of magic in Lycan’s head. The omega leaned his head heavily against Seath’s chest, exhausted to his core.
The Queen stood, staring at Lycan as if she were contemplating a puzzle and he was the odd piece that did not fit.
Her face went from impassive, to almost compassionate, to hard as stone.
“Well, tell us. Who are you, wolf?”
Chapter twenty-seven
Awakenings
Lycanfelttheforceof the Seelie realm on him at the Queen’s demand.
He was weak, and a bit disoriented. In pain.
But, his mind felt lighter, open in a way it hadn’t. And on it rested the demand of the sovereign of the realm.
He moved to sit shakily on the edge of the wooden slab, detangling Seath from him so he could and so that Seath didn’t give him all of his energy.
He searched for Caine, and his pleading eyes, found the vamp already coming toward him. “I’m taking too much from him,” Lycan whispered.
“I’ve got you, Little Wolf, and Seath too.” Caine put a hand on Seath’s neck for a brief moment, and then Caine sat on the other side of Lycan, helping to keep him upright.
Even in those seconds, the demand pressed against his chest as if to force out either his answer or the last of his air.
