Page 43 of Beast and Remedy
I seize Bronn’s bloodied sword. A possessive, animalistic growl leaves my throat, terror moving me forward into an attack.
Reaching inward for my power, I try to evoke the animal to stand down. I surge forth a wave of protectiveness, of territory, but the wolf does not relent.
It doesn’t obey my magic’s command.
I ram the sword into the beast in its side, and it whimpers, releasing its hold of my sister.
She clutches her arm, falling backward.
But I don’t stop attacking.
I launch forward, covering and protecting Marian as I pull the blade out, only to shove it back in. Fierceness, possessiveness, and fear tighten my grip on the hilt.
Deeperand deeper.
Over andover.
The need to protect what is mine moves my body of its own volition. Pain, rage, and grief rock through me as I roar, stabbing the animal again and again.
The invasion of my territory, the defiance, and the sheer terror of my sister being attacked—my guards attacked—drive the blade in and out.
In and out.
In and out.
Iscream.
And when the wolf collapses, Bronn’s sword still finds its mark.
The wreckage. The death. Theblood.
So. Much. Blood.
I keep going until my vision is too blurry from the tears, my voice too hoarse from the roars erupting from my throat, and the overwhelming distress attacking my body.
My chest rises and falls as my knees meet the hard ground. Finally dropping the sword, I slump forward, and a hand catches me.
I shudder, followed by another harrowing wail.
Marian.
I can’t even look at her to assess the damage.
What am I going to do?
The wolf attacked her.
We are stranded in the woods, and I have nothing to help her.
The air in my lungs turns stale. I gasp for more, yet it’s too far to reach.
“Vi,” Marian’s soft whisper startles me.
Another choked sob escapes. I pinch my eyes shut, too scared to face her.
I let her down. I let Riker, Marius, Alec, and Bronn down.
Oh, Sweet Makers.
