Page 146 of The Wolf and the Chimera
When he only stared at me, I smiled in feral delight.
“This time,” I said and gestured at the wolfsbane smoke, “they won’t smell us coming.”
Chapter Forty
Elle
As my blood glowed and congealed with Medea’s, her teeth flashed in the darkness. Though I had been the one to arrange this deal—I had bartered for my freedom—her wild grin sank my stomach.
What have I done?
“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, pet,” the sorceress purred.
Without warning, Medea flung me out of her mind. Though I wasn’t in a corporeal body, light blinded my vision, and pain erupted across my skin and down to my very bones.
Instinctively, I blinked against the unbearable brightness. Something beeped incessantly, and someone near me gasped. A deadly growl sounded from the corner of the room.
As my vision cleared, I realized Medea hadn’t just thrown me out of her mind.
She had tossed me into consciousness.
In an instant, I recognized the small, sterile room, and the shocked she-wolf who stood beside me. It was the same place Lyall had put me in the last time he had stolen my power under the guise of controlling the sorceress, and I remembered the she-wolf's slick bun and white coat.
Beside a frosted glass door was a metal countertop. On it, the needle embedded under my skin led to a tube glowing with magic, which flowed into an obsidian container. Otherdrugs and medical equipment covered its shining surface. Another needle and tube connected to an IV bag of foul-smelling chemicals.
At the foot of my bed, the Sovereign stared at me in utter shock. I reached for my power, but no magic burned in my veins. Even my chimera was tired.
As Lyall’s shock transformed into rage, the werewolf at my side cringed. She too was the same female who’d drained me before. I recognized her dark, slick bun and pristine white coat.
“Knock her out!”Lyall commanded.“Knock her back out!”
The woman twisted toward the metal countertop behind her, reaching for a vial of clear, foul-smelling liquid. A needle and syringe laid beside it.
No.
No, I would not be made helpless again.
As I surged upright and wrenched the needles out of my arm, something sharp pinched my sternum, and Kalli’s voice echoed in my mind.
The bodice is my favorite part.
Rallying what was left of my strength, I summoned claws and tore into the soft fabric of the dress. Sewn in between the corset boning was a small dagger. My chimera recognized its scent.
Silver.
Lyall dove for me, and I wrenched the dagger free from the holster within the dress and swiped the weapon wildly. As I sliced across his chest, Lyall hissed and pivoted. Hope flared, and I rose to my feet, kicking at the heavy skirts of my gown to do so.
Still suffering from the effects of being drained, I swayed but did not lower the dagger I pointed at Lyall. The she-wolf darted away from me. Lyall’s shoulders shook with sobs. He faced me again—
And laughed.
Even the she-wolf balked at the thin, red line acrossLyall’s chest. Silver didn’t cut werewolves, itburnedthem. The element was their greatest weakness. My father had called it one of nature’s greatest limitations.
Wolves didn’t heal from silver, yet with sickening quickness, Lyall’s flesh knitted itself back together.
Though she clearly worked in his demented lab,horror marred the she-wolf’s pretty, tan face.
“How?” she whispered.
