“Feyra, listen to me,” he said.
My feet were burning now, I could feel my flesh bubbling. My skin peeling off my bones. But more than that, I felt Dion reach out. His heart filled me completely. I began to feel better. My feet weren’t even burning!A miracle?
I looked at Dion and saw that he was burning alive.
I screamed in understanding. But he wouldn’t stop. He kept surging into me. Giving me his energy and strength.
“Dion!” I screamed.
I love you,he said through wolf sense.
“No!” I cried.
My second prophecy finally made sense. Who I loved would cause my death…but I loved more than just Dion. I’d loved Agatha too…
Suddenly the Siren Singer stopped. It choked on its voice. A light flashed from its center. Then it rose up in the air, fighting against a force we couldn’t see. It began to spin. Getting faster and faster. Until finally it was a blur, then it exploded in a flash and there was nothing there.
Bloody spray rained down on the creatures, who’d watched in awe as their protection died. They turned back to find a wolf, on fire, standing at the altar.
Dion had shifted, and he roared into the night as a second siren began screeching.
Chapter 22
DION
I wanted to kill them all! I wanted to rip them to shreds! My fur was on fire and my rage was unquenching. The Lady Skol had tried to kill me so cowardly?Me!
Except her monstrous men were running away. The Singer was dead…
Then I heard it. A siren screeching like that of the Siren Singer, but it didn’t sound painful. In fact, it was soothing. My wounds began to heal, and the flames extinguished. I felt calm and safe as if I was in the comfiest chair at the Whiteclaw Keep.
The men-like creatures were running in every direction. Some of them dying as they stood, others went crazy and ran frothing at the mouth, others disappeared into thin air. All the while I felt peaceful. Feyra looked peaceful. She stood like me, in awe of the beautiful music washing over us. Because it was music. A lovely melody.
A robed woman entered the temple, and suddenly it was just us. Even the bodies of the dead were gone.
She walked towards us with her head bowed, hands pressed together, and her hood pulled down low. She wore a gray gown, a regal wreath about her head was poking out the top. When she was in front of the altar, she stopped and pulled the hood away.
“My King and Queen,” she said happily. She raised her hands and the bonds tying Feyra to the stake disappeared. She waved them again and we were clothed, standing in front of her. When had I shifted back to my human form?
“Melania?” Feyra asked.
“I’m so glad that you came,” she replied, embracing her. “It has been too long, Diora.” Then she turned to me and held my cheek, like a mother does a child. “Elex.”
I was lost for words. What had been too long? We’d never been here, let alone met her? What was she on about? AndElex?
“How are you still alive?” Feyra asked. “You’ve been in my dreams, but those must be at least–”
“A few hundred years, yes,” she nodded sagely. “I have been alive in the same way you have been reborn, through the magic of the world. The simple truth that weaves itself among every living cell. I was kept alive because my work wasn’t finished. You were not avenged.”
She laughed and put a hand on Feyra’s shoulder. “My dear, I believe we’re scaring him. Maybe I should back up?”
“That would be more than nice,” I said. “How do you know her, Fey?”
Feyra too looked unsure how to answer. She was as confused as me in reality, her face said so. Yet… “In my dreams. I’ve been having odd dreams lately, more of them since coming closer to Jebra. Melania has been in them.”
This had to be foresight! She must have blended abilities. There was no other way to explain it.
“Come, sit,” Melania said.
