Page 60 of Bound By Blood
He twisted his hand around, flexing his fingers and then snapping them against his palms. Thurra and Nendri shot up into the air as well, twitching and flailing.
Erryn drew back, holding Buttons close but keeping his face turned from the fight. Was he going to kill them?
He flung all five onto the far side of the clearing beyond the staircase. They skidded across the stony soil, raking over the pine needles and low shrubs. For half a breath, they lay there motionless, groaning. Ilvan started to struggle up. Disa grabbed for his arm, and he collapsed.
"I could stop the blood beating through all of your hearts," Ryul snarled, striding toward them. His dragon-like wings were almost fully visible now, catching the firelight and burning with deepening light through translucent veins and bones. "Consider this your first and only warning. If you ever attempt this portal debauchery again or harm even one hair on my woman's head, your blood will turn to ash in your veins. Now, go!"
Coughing and gasping, the five staggered to their feet. Nendri limped along between Ilvan and Disa while Alrik helped Thurra up. Within seconds, they disappeared into the forest, and the night swallowed them up.
Ryul turned, his wings surging with color and then collapsing inward. "Did they hurt you?" He started up the stairs before she could answer.
"No, I'm fine." She let Buttons down, then straightened, intending to go down to him.
Oh!
He snatched her up, his arms snapping tight around her as he held her close and kissed her cheeks and her lips in rapid succession. "You're certain? You're all right?"
"Yes," she gasped.
She returned his kisses, almost frantic with need. His lips were so firm and yet soft against hers, sending warmth cascading through her body.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Ryul, I'm so sorry. I panicked. It wasn't you, I swear—"
"No, I'm sorry. Quinn was wrong. I didn't know they would do that. They should never have said those things."
"But Quinn was right. You shouldn't have to suffer like that for me. It's wrong, and I never meant to—"
"Pardon me," Traelan called out from the stone slab below. "Could this conversation wait another few seconds and one of you assist me in getting a hand free? I can tend to the rest on my own, but that will be a touch more difficult if I bleed out."
She broke free from the kiss, horrified. That was right. He was bleeding out!
"I forgot. I'm coming, Traelan."
"No need to rush," Traelan responded. "I won't die in the next thirty seconds unless something dreadful happens."
She hurried down the staircase with Buttons trailing along behind and Ryul moving with even slower deliberation as if he was taking in everything about what had happened.
"No curse on them if they should harm a hair on my head?" Traelan said, looking to Ryul.
"You're a kytobar. None of that hair is yours." Ryul offered a small smile. "The only thing real about you is your blood and your voice. And apparently your peril at the moment."
Erryn halted as she reached Traelan. The red-orange light framed him with horrifying vividness. He'd never looked so dreadful. His face was blotched with red marks while other triangular sections were either livid white or pale green. His hands had turned white, and the scars on them had gone green-black. She picked up Alrik's fallen dagger and cut his hands free.
Traelan winced. "And my feelings. Let's not forget about those."
She pulled the strips of cloth from her hands to wrap around his. "You've lost a lot of blood, Traelan. They cut you deep. Let's get you bound up."
Traelan shook his head. "I'll close it. It'll be fine. Just couldn't have bled out much more."
She cut through the rest of the ropes as Ryul came alongside them.
"They were collecting your blood," he said. "Has your blood been altered? Have they drugged you?"
"No. It's fresh from the river," Traelan replied with a dry smile. He placed his hand over one of the long open cuts. "Fortunately, my currents move slow."
"Then hold still."
Ryul traced a pattern in the air, gaze turned down on the blood in the vessel and the grooves of the stone slab. The blood became like a sleek black ribbon and rose into the air. He twitched his index finger, then rolled it, forming a long looping oval shape. The ribbon of blood followed the path, shimmering and twisting in the moonlight until it dove into the wound.
