Page 46 of The Stygian Crown

Logan snarled, his eyes a menacing red. The eyes of a predator on their prey.

“Please stop. I’d rather live with it. Just make it stop.”

Another lash of fire, and Kara’s entire body jerked. She tried to roll away, to escape the horrible sensations.

Logan climbed on top of the table and pulled her head into his lap. His arms wrapped around hers, holding them still. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against her sweat-soaked one. “I’m so sorry, but this has to happen, my love. It’s killing you.”

Kara locked her legs beneath the table’s surface to keep from kicking out at Salizar.

Tears leaked down her face, and she screamed into the scabbard each time a tendril worked its way free. She begged them to make it stop, to release her, promising them anything if they let her free. Words flowed from her lips without meaning. Logan stroked her hair and whispered into her ear—soft, reassuring words that took the edge off.

The pain ebbed at last, and Kara forced her eyes open. A mass of dark shadow, like a tangle of small, slickened eels, hung in the air between her stomach and Salizar’s hands. It moved, still alive. Energy pulsed along it every few seconds.

Sweat drenched Kara’s body. Her flesh wasn’t torn, but the skin of her stomach burned bright red where the tendrils used to be. Would it scar like that? She collapsed backwards into Logan’s lap, letting the built up tension drain from her body.

Salizar caught the magic eater between his hands and stepped back from the table. It writhed like a fish drowning on air.

“Destroy it now,” Logan said.

Salizar pulled one tendril away from the mass, and a hollow shriek filled the room. The tendril separated, and Salizar dropped it on the ground and crushed it beneath his boot. Then he whispered a word in that same arcane language and disappeared.

Logan lunged for the space he used to be.

Kara blinked, not entirely sure she was in her right mind. He was just gone, empty space where he’d once stood, and the magic eater with him.

“Fuck!” Logan yelled. He kicked a cupboard door, and the glass vials atop it teetered, some spilling over and releasing acrid fumes into the air.

He knelt and began sweeping the powders on the floor out of the way with his hands, gradually exposing a large transport rune that’d been carved into the workshop’s stone floor.

“How bad is this?” Kara asked, her voice scraping against her throat.

“Well, he has your blood and an enormous dose of potent magic in the magic eater, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this transport rune connects to a Sanguine hideout.”

“So, very bad.” Kara closed her eyes so the ceiling would stop wiggling. Weight pulled her down, plastering her to the table. She tried to lift a hand, and it wavered in the air before sinking back.

Logan cursed, then she was being lifted in powerful arms, and they were moving through the castle. He stuck to the servant’s passages, but they passed several people, judging by the intakes of breath and the weight of their eyes following after them.

Kara nuzzled into his neck and breathed him in, eyes closed. She wanted to absorb the moment while she could.

Logan took her to his room and laid on her on the bed. She reached for him when he stepped away, but he returned with a warm, wet cloth and began washing the blood runes off her stomach, moving gently when he had to touch the tender red lines.

Kara couldn’t stop shivering. Her throat was raw from screaming, and her entire body ached. She was completely drained.

Logan finished bathing her stomach and brushed a hand across her brow.

“In the future, Kara…I’d rather you take another than see you suffer like that again.”

She pressed her head against him and pulled him down to the bed with her. His heat wrapped around her as he pulled her into his chest and tugged the blanket up over them.

“It wasn’t about that. I was upset and tired of the curse controlling me. Someone else wouldn’t have fixed the issue. You said you’d used the magic eater before. You understand.”

He stroked her hair. “I didn’t have anyone to guide me, though. This is my fault. I should have warned you about the magic eaters. Should have told you about the escort mission with the princess. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if I didn’t make it back in time, and it cost you.”

“It’s not your fault, Logan.”

There was a knock on the door in a stilted pattern.

“Come in,” Logan called.

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