Page 44 of The Blood Crown

She whispered his name again.

And a low growl cut through the stale air of the dungeon in answer.

Chapter 23

She would have recognized that sound anywhere.

Aurelia turned, already knowing what she would see.

Phosphorescent green eyes lit up the dark as a hulking shape emerged from the corner of the room.

The Fengul prowled the distance between her and the door, eyes blazing green, a low snarl rumbling through her chest as it stalked closer to where she gripped the bars of Karro’s cell—frozen.

In the dim light, she could see a latticework of scars across its leathery hide, a slight limp in its hind leg . . .

But it had been a mistake to take her eyes from it as the Fengul lunged for her.

Her magick answered in response. Gold and white branches of power ripped from her, arcing toward the creature as its green eyes shifted to her hand, coming to a halt as it crouched low. Not the snarling, raging beast it had been.

Lightning set it aflame. A torch in the pitch black of the dungeon.

The beast screamed in pain, swiveling its head to pin her with the unnatural green fire raging in its stare as its hide went up like tinder.

Whimpering . . .thatwas the sound carrying across the black stone floors.

Those things had hunted her, had killed her father, but for all the disgust and hatred she felt—the cloying taste of pity welled up in her throat . . . It had been trapped here just like them.

They all had names once.

But there was no time for pity. There was only survival.

And so she watched the Fengul writhe in agony as its hide was consumed by her magick, crackling in the heat as it disintegrated into ash.

And she could have sworn, in those final moments—relief flickered across the death hound's eyes as it fell to the floor and dissolved into dust.

The stench of sulfur filled the already stale air of the dungeon, choking Aurelia as she wrenched the heavy lock from Karro’s cell. The door swung open with a rusty creak as she dropped to her knees.

“Karro,” she hissed.

His wounds from weeks ago were still caked in old blood. Festering. The smell of infection soured the air. Pale—he was so pale. They’d starved him. Those bastards had starved him of blood since they’d been taken captive.

His head rolled to the side as she tried to prop him up, putting her fingers to his neck.

A pulse. Faint, but still there.Alive.

Lifting her wrist to her mouth, she pierced her skin, pressing her arm to his mouth.

He was unresponsive, the sound of his shallow breaths the only thing giving her hope. Pressing his mouth harder againsther skin, she whispered, “Drink, you son of a bitch. Today is not the day you die.”

A featherlight brush made her breath catch. So faint, that she wondered if she’d imagined it.

She let out a strangled sob as she felt the sweep of Karro’s tongue. A heartbeat later, his mouth opened wider, the fangs on either side piercing her arm.

Every draw he took was longer than the last, until he was gripping her arm to his mouth like a man dying of thirst.

Lucidity slowly came back into his ruby eyes as they met hers through the gloom of the cell—widening with panic.

He shoved away from her. “Ari—what did you . . .” He wiped a hand across his mouth with a curse. The puncture marks along her forearm already sealing up as she glanced down in confusion. “Fucking Fate,” he said, wiping at his mouth again. “Ven will never forgive me for that.”

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