Page 190 of Flirting with Darkness

I had no time to lie and catch my breath, though, because nearby there was a snarl, a shriek, and the crunch of bone.

I scrambled to my feet, cradling my injured arm, and found the clearing around strewn with torn flesh, that pond-scum coloured blood, andpiecesof the monster.

At the centre of it all, the huge form of Faolán.

I let out a breath that was more than half whimper. That roar wasn’t another monster, but him. Thank all the gods.

His bare back was to me as he bent over something on the floor. He looked even bigger than usual, dominating the open space, painted silver by the moonlight.

“You hurt her.” His body heaved with great breaths that steamed the damp air of the conservatory forest. “You fucking hurt her.”

What the hells was he doing? I circled around, squeezing the slices in my arm to staunch the blood, but not daring to look at them. Even the thought made my knees weak.

And when I reached Faolán’s side, I fell to them.

He had the monster—or part of it. No limbs remained, but its eyes still glowed with that fell light, even as they stared up at him, wide andafraid.

Part of me—the part that had been sure I was going to die tonight—relished its fear.

“You hurt her. Now you die.” Teeth bared, nose wrinkled in a brutal snarl, Faolán took hold of its jaw in one hand and the top of its skull in the other.

I must’ve lost too much blood, because I could’ve sworn his claws were longer than usual.

His thumb dipped into its eye socket, and the monster let out a shriek, its tongue twisting through the air like it had earlier.

Only it wasn’t laughing anymore.

Faolán’s shoulders and arms bulged, straining as he pulled.

And he tore.

And he ripped the beast in two.

Its tongue fell still.

The glowing eyes guttered out.

Faolán lifted his head and bellowed.

The moon edged every snarling wrinkle of his face with silver. It painted his fangs and the gore smeared across his chest and covering his arms to the elbows. It lit in his hazel eyes and bathed his muscles in its pale glow.

Hewasa beast.

Brutal and terrible and more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen.

Because he’d done this for me. It was wonderful and awful in equal measure, but all I wanted were his arms around me, because there I knew I was safe.

He’d done this, after all.

I could only stare as he turned to me. Chest heaving, face still contorted, he stared. That wildness was still in his eyes, like he wasn’t entirely Faolán—at least not the one I knew.

Then he blinked and that man was back. He looked down at me, eyes wide as they settled on my wounds. “I’m sorry.” He shook his head, eyes bright in the moonlight, arm coming around me.

Despite the gore, I was grateful for his strength, as I wobbled and every part of me felt far, far too heavy.

“I’m so sorry.” He shook his head again, as though locked in that one reaction, over and over. “I couldn’t get to you in time. I was trapped in the house. I—”

“It’s all right.” I managed a smile, though my voice sounded weak.

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