It’s like a hand closing around my throat. Not physically, since I can still breathe, but something inside me chokes up. Mymouth opens to say something, anything, and nothing comes out for a few seconds.
“What the fuck?” I finally blurt out, grabbing my throat.
“What did you do to him?” Killian snarls, shoving Villeneuve back a foot.
“The same thing I did to you,” Villeneuve answers without blinking. “A simple binding hex. You’ll find that any attempt to communicate what I’ve just told you, whether verbally or in writing, will result in exactly what you just experienced. The words simply won’t come.”
My heart kicks up like I’m running drills in gym class. When I try to think about what Villeneuve just told us, it’s like my brain turns to mush.
It’s just like math class.
Okay, maybe not that bad, but it still sucks.
“You son of a bitch.”
This time, Killian lunges at him, but Villeneuve is ready.
They go down hard, Killian taking a swing at the professor’s head that the other man just absorbs. He throws an uppercut that makes Killian’s head whip back, and I can practically hear theDINGsound echoing through the courtyard.
A few of the other students and professors on the lawn look and then immediately keep walking like they don’t want any part of it.
I step back because I’m not sure I do either, and right now, neither of them are anywhere near shifting. They’re just two dudes going at it in the grass.
But like, in a violent way. Not a sexy way. I snap a picture anyway, because it’s kind of hilarious and Micah won’t believe me otherwise.
This isdefinitelymy new wallpaper.
Then I wince because I think Killian is losing. He’s fast, way faster than he should be with a virus kicking his ass, butVilleneuve is faster. He’s on top now, one hand wrapped around Killian’s throat.
“You should have left well enough alone,” he says, and I swear his eyes weren’t green a second ago. There are dark veins around the sides of his eyes now, and green scales cover his hands, rippling their way up his forearms. Killian’s claws are partially shifted as he tries to pry Villeneuve’s hands off his throat.
Oh, shit. Villeneuve is going to kill him.
And I’m gonna get ripped apart like a stuffed bear thrown to a pack of feral chihuahuas for getting between them. Oh well.
Before the thought finishes processing, my wolf comes out, but the second my paws hit the ground and Villeneuve’s eyes meet mine, he freezes. There’s shame in them, which is new.
One second he’s standing there, the next he’s gone. Poof. Like he was never there in the first place.
I shift back immediately to help haul Killian to his feet, but he pushes my hand away even while he’s still choking.
“Hey, you okay, man?” I ask him.
Killian’s fist connects with the ground where Villeneuve was standing a second earlier.
The impact causes the earth to fly up in a circle around his fist, like a little bomb just went off underground.
“Killian.” I grab his shoulder, trying to pull him back. “Killian, hey, come on. Don’t go beast mode on me now.”
He’s breathing hard. His eyes have gone full yellow. The dark veins on his neck are pulsing again.
“That fucking…” His voice is barely human. “Thatfuckingson of aBITCH!”
“I know, man. I know.” I keep my grip on his shoulder, grounding him. “But he’s gone. And punching the dirt isn’t going to bring him back.”
Killian’s fist is bleeding. He doesn’t seem to notice.
“We can’t tell her,” Killian says. His voice is steadier now, and the yellow in his eyes is fading, but I’ve never seen it get that bad before.
