Page 193 of Blood Feast

She handed him a small plate of shredded venison softened in warm water. “Try this now.”

The night passed in a blur of changing bloody bandages and soiling his fingers with dead flesh. He knew Miranda was out there, their true goal. But nothing felt as important as keeping this one creature alive.

At some point, Cassia went to the door to speak with Lyros in low tones. Lio couldn’t catch their words through Lyros’s veils, only their worry.

Lio felt a heavy, soft weight press against his leg. He looked to see Knight laying at his side. Cassia’s hound leaned his head across Lio’s lap to sniff his sleeping familiar.

Lio stroked Knight’s head, and a different fear replaced his worry that Knight wouldn’t accept the new hound. What if Knight grew too attached, only to lose his new companion?

Cassia sat down with him in the pile of dogs. “What will you call her?”

He doubted anyone but his Grace would have urged him to name a dying thing.

“You should name her,” Cassia said firmly.

“Every champion needs a lady,” he said. “What do you think, Knight? Shall we dub her your Dame?”

Knight licked the other dog’s muzzle.

“That’s perfect,” Cassia said.

“Dame, then.” Lio stroked her soft ears again. “How much longer will Lyros tolerate my madness, do you think?”

“He didn’t come to argue. He came to ask me how you are.”

“Are he and Mak all right?”

“None of us are. But they have the training for coping with death.”

“So should I, after so much of it.”

“Mak and Lyros and I aren’t mind mages.”

She reached for him in their Union, the touch of her thoughts and emotions the gentlest offering. He sucked in a deep breath and let his Grace’s presence fill the void inside him.

44

Nights After

WINTER SOLSTICE

THE REAL GOAL

Lio stumbled through thebodies. The battlefield stretched as far as his eyes could see. The silence reigned as far as his ears could hear.

His magic swept out of him like a wind, beyond his control. It carried him through the vacant husks that had been people.

His only hope lay on the horizon. The stone circle where he would find his Grace. He had to get to her before it was too late.

He waded ahead on foot. The blood of the fallen stained his avowal robes.

At last he staggered into the circle. The stones lay in broken pieces around him. At their center was Cassia in her ceremonial white robes. His beautiful Whiteblood was now on her knees and bound to a stake.

“No.” He let his power flow into her, Craving her life force.

But her vibrant magic didn’t fill their Union. She, too, was hollow.

“No!” His shout echoed across the devastation Kallikrates had left in his wake. “I will wrest her magics from you and leave you empty.”

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