It leapt at Alastar, scoring the horse’s side.
“No!” Like lightning, Iona surged to her feet, charged.
Her sword whistled through the air, but the wolf streaked to the side, then barreled into her with a force that propelled her, had her skidding on her back, and her sword flying away.
The wolf straddled her, jaws snapping. And became a man again.
“I’ll burn him to cinders,” Cabhan warned. “Hold him back or I set him on fire.”
“Stop! Alastar, stop!”
She felt his rage even as he obeyed. And felt the amulet she wore vibrate between her and Cabhan.
His gaze lowered to it; his lips peeled back in a snarl.
Then he smiled again, terrifyingly, into her eyes.
“Sorcha betrayed me with a kiss. I’ll draw what’s in you into me the same way.”
“I won’t give it to you.”
“But you will.”
Pain exploded, unspeakably. She screamed, unable to stop. Red everywhere, as if the world caught fire. She heard Alastar’s screams join hers. Ordered him torun, run, run. If she couldn’t save herself, she prayed she could save him.
Above all, she would never give up. She would never give her light to the dark.
“A kiss. You’ve only to give me one kiss, and the pain will vanish, the burden will drop.”
Somewhere in her frantic mind she realized he couldn’t take it. He could kill her, but he couldn’t take what she was. She had to surrender it.
Instead she groped, found her athame with a shuddering hand.
She wept, couldn’t stop that either, but through the screams and sobs she managed one word. “Bleed.”
And plunged the knife into his side.
He roared, more fury than pain, and, leaping up, dragged her with him, holding her a foot above the ground by a hand clamped around her throat.
“You’re nothing! Pale and weak and human. I’ll crush the life out of you, and your power with it.”
She kicked, tried to call for fire, wind, a flood, but her vision grayed, her lungs burned.
She heard another roar, and flew, hitting the ground hard enough to shock her bones and clear her vision.
She saw Boyle, his face a mask of vengeance, pummeling his fists into Cabhan’s face.
With each hit, flames leapt.
“Stop.” She couldn’t get the word out, no more than a croak, even as Boyle’s hands burned.
She managed to gain her knees, swayed as she fought to find her center.
The man dropped away. The wolf slipped out of Boyle’s hold and bunched for attack.
The hound streaked into the clearing, snarling, snapping. Hawks dove, talons slicing at the wolf’s back.
An arm circled her waist, lifted her to her feet. Hands linked with hers.
