Just like Samryn. Only Samryn was apparently the worst ofthem all…of all the bonded of Grym.No onedared to approach him, with the exception of Alaryk Arn’dyne.
Not even Myzalla, from what Tarkosh had told me.
“It’s important for the Elthika to feel respected,” she’d said. “And each one has different boundaries on what they will and will not accept.”
Just likepyroki, I’d thought at the time.
Only now, facing Samryn, whose head was larger than my entire body and whose jaws could tear me apart in a moment…I realized how wrong I’d been.
A low rumble shook the ground. A growl. Of warning? Or of pain?
A twig snapped up my foot when I stepped further into the clearing, holding my arms away from my body and keeping my movements slow. I didn’t know what to do, but I felt my heartstone magic gathering, warming my entire body, a default I fell back on when I was uncertain with a creature.
“Are you injured?” I asked, envisioning my magic like a spool of thread, slowly beginning to unravel, its string stretching across the clearing to make contact with Samryn.
Blue light reflected on his scales, so I knew my eyes were beginning to glow.
His growling lessened, his head raising to regard me, as if he could feel the magic. I’d heard stories that Elthika were sensitive to the heartstones, that they needed their energy to survive.
Could I help him? Just like I had countlesspyroki? Just like I had my father when he’d been ill? Or my brother when infection had taken root?
“I won’t hurt you,” I breathed again, my magic gathering. I reached out a hand. Samryn was so big that he’d toppled a few trees when he’d fallen, their ancient trunks uprooted, and I thought I could scent the metallic tinge of blood in the air. Had he injured himself in the fall? “I want to help you.”
My hand was so close to the heat of his scales that I could feelit seep into me, warming the flesh. My touch hovered over his jaw, recognizing that he could snap his fangs at me and I’d lose my entire arm.
I pressed my magic forward, crossing over a threshold, and I saw the blue glow of it in my mind’s eye, tracing Samryn’s scales, highlighting them, running like a current beneath them as it looked for a wayin.
A groan from the poor creature. I pressed my hand to his jaw with the last of my courage and felt the bond of my magic latch tight.
I gasped, a flooding of heartstone magic being reciprocated back at me like a funnel. Tears nearly blinded me. Everyone had been right—Elthika were so deeply intertwined with the heartstones that it felt like a deep pool of pure magic. It felt like I was sinking into it, getting swallowed up, whilewantingto.
I wanted to delve deeper. I’d never felt anything like it before—this raw, wonderful bliss of what I’d always felt inside me.
But the longer I twined my magic with Samryn, the more it began to hurt.
I knew something was wrong when I felt something thick and cloying, sickeningly sweet mixed in with the magic. Like muck in a clear river that threatened to clog it up like a dam.
My brow furrowed. That was when the pain started. And I nearly cried out when I felt that deep, deep pain. Because I realized it was what Samryn was feeling. He was funneling it into me, trying to find relief, the poor beast. Seeking any way out he could.
“I can help you,” I gritted out, “but I need time. Stop giving me?—”
I was wrenched away, a heavy, tight grip on my arm that sent me sprawling back. When the connection was ripped away, I nearly screamed, going dizzy from it.
When I gained my footing, I looked up.
Blue eyes clashed with mine.
Alaryk.
And he looked pissed, fury seething from him. Heartstone magicfloodedfrom him, crawling up my flesh like ropes that wanted to strangle me. Like it wanted to consume me.
I nearly choked on it.
Such power,I thought as harsh panic began to chase away the remnants of Samryn’s suffering.He’ll kill me with it.
In a deadly calm voice, Alaryk asked, “What did you do to my Elthika?”
Chapter 10
