Page 66 of Destined to the Lycan
“You’re implying that it ismybite that she needs.Me, thesickwolf,” I hissed. “But that’s not possible. My saliva contains the same venom as his snake tail, but a much weaker version.Youwere the one who made me realize it. So me biting her now won’t help her.”
“That’s correct,” he said with an unreadable expression.
“So then it cannot beme!” I exclaimed.
My blood boiled with rage when he just stood there without speaking a word, staring at me like he wanted to punch the stupid out of me.
“By Ferazan’s blood, just fucking speak already!” I shouted. “Enough with your stupid riddles. Amara is dying! We don’t have time for your blasted games.”
“I have said as much as I can say, you foolish mortal,” Lyall replied angrily. “I am bound by the Covenant. You have all the information you need. Figure it out before it’s too late.”
I opened and closed my mouth, unsure what to say while a wave of despair crashed over me. With this statement about the Covenant, Lyall confirmed my suspicions that he was either ademigod or one of the Ancients—though I believed him to be the former. They were forbidden to meddle with the lives of mortals if it derailed Fate’s plans for us. Breaking the Covenant had dire consequences for them.
“I don’t know what to do,” I said, defeated while tightening my hold around my mate’s unconscious form in my arms.
I gazed upon her beautiful face, my heart shattering. She trusted me so blindly, and here I was utterly failing her because I was too stupid to figure it out.
“Then go back to the source,” Lyall grumbled.
I jerked my head up to look at him questioningly. “The source?”
“The Weaver. She’s the one who told Amara what to do. Maybe ask her to clarify,” Lyall said with an unreadable expression.
“The Weaver is much too far!” I exclaimed, looking at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Even if I killed myself running nonstop the fastest I could, it would take me at least three days. And that would be with me runningalone! With Amara, it would take at least eight to nine days. She will be dead by then. And even if I were to go alone and return with the answer, the full moon would have risen. And anyway, the Weaver never opened her gates for me.”
“You had nothing she wanted back then,” Lyall countered with a shrug. “Now, you do.”
He gestured with his chin at my mate as he spoke that last sentence. My heart leapt. I indeed had something she wanted. The Weaver never helped someone unless there was something in it for her. She wanted my mate’s blood once she was cured. Therefore, Cliona would want to help me save her so that she could get her hands on what would have to be one of the rarest serums in the world once she derived it from my woman’s blood.
“You make a good point,” I said, licking my lips nervously while I still tried to reflect on a solution to the time issue. “But I still will never make it in time to the Weaver’s house while carrying my mate.”
“I could fly Amara to her home,” Lyall suddenly offered with that same expressionless demeanor. “The manor she inherited would be a relatively short run for you from the Weaver’s home.”
I gaped at him, hope, anger, and deep frustration warring within me in equal measure.
“Why the fuck didn’t you offer that sooner?” I demanded. “And what about the Covenant? Why can you interfere with this but not with the rest? What are you not telling me?”
His anger flared in equal measure to mine, if not more.
“Stop wasting time with your stupid questions. I tell you what I can when it is appropriate to do so. I may not be allowed to interfere in the fate of mortals, but I have the right to take a dear friend home. You have until the full moon to figure out what to do. After that, Amara will die. And so help me, if you fail her, nothing, not even the Covenant, will spare you from my wrath.”
“You’re in love with her,” I whispered, more to myself than for him.
He bared his fangs at me, his eyes glowing an angry red.
“The question is doyoulove her?” he snarled.
“Yes, I do,” I replied with conviction.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “But do you love herenough?”
“What?” I asked, confused.
“Do not be late, pup,” he simply replied before morphing back into a Gharlakan.
He towered over me by at least ahead as he stood on his hind legs. Their three segments made him look even more like a werewolf, if not for his pointy face and bat wings. He took my mate from me, the gentle and careful way with which he cradledher in his arms further confirmed the depth of his feelings for my Flame. Whatever happened, he would go out of his way to keep her safe. As soon as he took flight, I shifted into my wolf form. I didn’t gather any of our belongings from the shelter, no food, or water.
I just ran.
