Page 133 of Shifter King
Crespa!
WroOth resisted the urge to strike his hand over his eyes.
Naatos snarled as he pointed at false-Amelia. "That is my veskaro, my wife. And you cannot have her. None of you can. I’ll kill you all." He staggered several feet to the left as the gasps expanded, more and more exclaiming in shock. Then he lunged up the staircase toward WroOth.
Crespa, crespa, crespa.
WroOth stepped back, drawing false-Amelia with him. If he could pierce life-saving knowledge into his brother’s skull, he would do it now. But Elonumato help him, if Naatos started mounting this false-Amelia, he was going to have to beat him with the fan. That was not going to happen.
Naatos clambered up the stairs and halted, his expression darkening amid the shocked cries and confused utterances of the Bealorns. He took a deep breath as his brow creased. "You’re not my veskaro. Where’s Amelia!"
WroOth spoke through the Amelia form. "I’m here. Calm down. Just. Deep breaths now. Everything’s all right." Damn him, this was tiring. Maintaining all these individual details while keeping it all attached to his own living breathing body. Shrieking moons, he would kuvaste him for this.
Murmurs of shock and concern rippled throughout.
Naatos took a very deep breath, his eyes narrowing further. Those wheels were turning very slowly right now.
AaQar, still appearing as Naatos, placed his hand on Naatos’s shoulder. "My twin. Everything is all right—"
"Where is my veskaro?" he growled. He only looked slightly perturbed to see his duplicate, though his brow furrowed deeper as he stared at AaQar-Naatos.
"Shoot the rabid one," Zorna announced, pointing at Naatos.
Naatos snarled at her.
Shrieking crespa, he probably wasn’t even in a clear enough state of mind to shift right or protect himself from the venom. And that growl wasn’t going to help anyone think he wasn’t rabid.
"Wait!" AaQar-Naatos shouted, raising his arm and stepping in front of Naatos.
Archers rose up on the balconies and drew their bows, the long creaking of the strings resonating through the arena.
"Shoot him now," Zorna commanded.
AaQar transformed into a large silver-blue dragon, wings shooting out as soft skin became thick scales. QueQoa dropped the multi-form, seeking his iron dragon form but slower changing slower than usual.
WroOth summoned up his focus and energy, preparing to drop the form and become a dragon large and strong enough to deflect the multi-pronged poisoned arrows. Already his body fought him, protesting the transformation with the venom and poison still stinging through him. How much worse could this get?
Bolts of white-blue light shot up from the chests of all the archers. They lurched up into the air. Their weapons clattered from their hands.
"That is enough." A sharp feminine voice sliced up from the back of the grand hall.
Oh crespa. He dropped the false-Amelia form and the feminine form he had adopted, returning to his state of rest.
No, dear heart, no, not this.
ENOUGH
Amelia sat up, striking her head on a wooden lid. Her head thundered; a salty taste filled her mouth.
This was wrong. Incredibly wrong.
They’d said she was going to get married.
She was already married. Why would anyone try to make her do that again? And crespa anyone who got in the way of that. It had been hard resolved.
She put her hands against the top of the box. It slid off easily. Distorted memories pressed in upon her. There was a wedding here right now.
Hers?
