Page 220 of The Black Witch

Trystan grinds out the words to the spell as the dragon swoops in. I gasp as heat shudders through me, through my hand and into Trystan’s shoulder. A beam of white light bursts out of the white wand and spears toward the dragon, colliding with the creature’s chest, piercing the dragon clear through. An explosion of limbs, flesh and blood streaks through the sky as the white beam barrels onward and crashes into the vertical cliff face of the mountain before us.

An explosion of rock and dust follows, the sound deafening, the ground shaking beneath us. Multiple avalanches rumble to life and rain down huge stones onto the military base, the largest of the structures quickly reduced to smoky rubble.

“Is that...” Jarod says, his voice dazed.

“Damion Bane’s new military headquarters, yes,” Trystan finishes for him.

Everyone flinches as another avalanche of stone breaks free from the mountain and takes out the last of the stone buildings. The soldiers below, small as ants, have grown silent as they stand near their small, isolated barracks and stare, along with us, at the destroyed base. One soldier yells out and points in our direction.

“They’re regrouping,” Cael says grimly as gruff voices begin to bellow out orders. “And they’ll come after us.”

“Let’s go,” Yvan prods, his arms tight around me. “I need to tend to her leg.Soon.”

“They’ll send trackers out after us,” Rafe says, his voice ragged. My brother looks tense, his face streaked with blood.

Tierney raises her hands in the air, closes her eyes and begins to hum, low and clear. Gray clouds pull in from every direction, like dogs heeding a master’s call, growing and mushrooming above, their movement dizzying and strange, like time speeding up. Thick, fat flakes begin to rain down on us, first scattered, and then thick as an upended sack of flour.

“There,” Tierney says, barely visible through the frigid white. “That should hide our tracks nicely.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Aftermath

I’m drifting in and out of consciousness, half-aware ofYvan’s arms around me, my head lolling over his shoulder, the terrible pain inmy leg muted into a throbbing ache that grows and then recedes, over and over,like the rhythmic sweep of the ocean’s tide. I can taste blood in my mouth,smell it on Yvan’s taut neck.

And then I’m dipped down, and the air around me grows damp, thevoices more distinct as I’m laid out on a cold, stone-hard floor. Everyone isfuzzy, some of them grouped around me. The dragon being carried in by Diana andJarod briefly comes into focus, her scales scraping against the stone floor ofthe cave as she’s lowered down, her hide giving off a dusty, wood-smoke smell.The warmth from her body rushes toward me, loosening my muscles. The painspikes. I cry out as flashing spots of light block out my vision.

Yvan’s voice. Yelling out orders as I writhe in pain. Myclothes being pushed up and over. Hands tight on my leg. Other hands around myarms. Grasping me firmly as I struggle against them.

“Ren.” Trystan’s voice, coming from right behind me. I moanagain. “You’ve got to try and stay still, Ren.”

I scream out like a wild animal as the pain of a thousandknives stabs at my leg. I buck against the hands grasped tight around my thigh,the pain seeming to go on forever and ever.

Finally, the pain begins to fade and the room comes into focus,like I’m surfacing from deep water, gasping and choking.

Yvan is staring at me, his face full of an intense relief, hisarms still tight around my leg, the pain now tamped down to a small ache. Myhead throbbing, the room begins to spin, my vision blurring. I slump backagainst Trystan.

“You fixed my leg,” I weakly marvel.

Yvan smiles, a desperate relief evident in his eyes. He movesup to sit beside me as Trystan places something soft under my head. I sink backinto it.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Yvan says gently. He takes holdof my tunic at the waist and rips open the side seams with one quick jerk.

Even in my haze, this strikes me as odd. “What are youdoing?”

He pauses. “Do you trust me?” His eyes are steady on mine.

I nod, my head feeling weightless as if it could just floatright into the sky.

Yvan slides his hands through the ripped seam and finds his waywith deft fingers. He slides one hand behind my back and the other to the centerof my chest.

I draw in a small, languid breath. “You’re so warm...”

“Shhh,” he says, his deep voice soothing. “Close youreyes.”

I obey as his hand moves up my breastbone with slow, deliberatecare. Warmth radiates out from his fingers and flows through me, coursing fromhis hands into my entire body. The light-headedness fades as the warmth grows,my breath strengthening in my lungs, the long, stinging slashes on my backmuting to tingling ribbons.

I open my eyes and meet his gaze, my vision clear again, thepain gone. He’s so close to me, his ministrations like a lover’s caress.

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