Without warning, her hand sliced through the air and she spoke one word. Alaunus groaned, clutching his belly with his free hand. When he lifted it, he saw the stain of blood on his fingertips. Her magic had cut him deeply.
His grip on his dagger tightened as something twisted deep inside him. He cried out when she repeated the gesture, this time laying open his cheek.
Once again, the thing within him writhed, like a beast fighting its restraints.
Her magic cut him a third time and he could no longer fight what rose inside his body and soul. He threw his head back and roared, more animal than man, as heat exploded in his chest and spread to his limbs.
When he could contain no more, it burst forth from him like a tempest, destroying everything in its path. The cottage shook and the stone walls began to crumble. Rhiannon was thrown back, landing ten feet away from the cottage door, flat on her back in the garden.
Alaunus strode to where she lay, moaning and writhing from the pain of broken limbs. As he stared down at her with cold detachment, she choked and coughed, a small trickle of blood escaping from her lips.
Kneeling, he fisted her hair in his hand, lifting her face towards his. “Where is Aveta?” he asked. “Tell me and I will end your suffering quickly.”
“And if I do not?” she scoffed.
He placed the point of his dagger just beneath her eye. “You will live long enough for me to make you beg for a quick death.”
The dark witch studied him silently for a long moment. “You carry more of the warrior in your blood than I thought, Alaunus.” Then she chuckled, the sound little more than a thick gasp. “As much as I admire your resolve, I will never tell you where she is.” Her mouth formed a horrifying gape, the rictus of a smile from the dying woman.
Her blood.
Alaunus’ head lifted at the whispered words, looking around him for the woman who spoke so softly in his ear. The garden was empty. He inhaled deeply but smelled no one else, only the scent of fresh spring water.
Drink from her and find what you seek.
Alaunus looked down and hesitated. He did not want to bite this sorceress. He wanted none of her essence inside him, insidious and invading.
But he wanted to find Aveta more.
He felt his fangs lengthen and sharpen as he stared down into the defiant eyes of the dark witch. As he lifted her, angling her head back to expose her throat, Rhiannon emptied a clay jar over his head.
“Life everlasting, yet forever alone. Your beloved forgotten and your heart of stone. By my will, so shall it be,” she gasped. “Enjoy eternity without your beloved, Alaunus.”
He roared in rage as the magic began to burn and bite his skin. He tried to lunge forward, to sink his fangs into her throat, but she was torn from his arms by an unseen force. A black hole opened up before him, pulling him down and away from the earth beneath his feet.
As he fell into the abyss that yawned before him, he heard her choking laughter.
Then he knew no more.
