Page 59 of Changelings
Balar’s head fell to hers, and he pressed a kiss into her cheek. Her skin was salty yet cool, Imogen but wrong.
Inside his chest, histurukseethed.
This was allwrong.
The strange wound on Imogen, the bandages on the goats and Chestnut, her odd gestures…
His stomach revolted when he realized—the iron teeth of a trap.
Kud, was that what she’d meant? She was motioning pulling apart the mouth of a trap?
Rage like Balar had never known seeped into his blood. He’d never hated before, not truly—not even Artash, his arrogant elder brother.
Today, Balar hated. He hated an idea, a theory, but it was enough.
He burned with it, would burn as surely as Imogen’s fever until he could make this right.
Histurukroared for vengeance, for justice.
Hiskigarahad beenhurt.
Unacceptable.
Balar himself trembled with his rage, and the second kiss he gave her wasn’t as gentle as it should’ve been. “I’ll be right back,” he promised. “I’ll make this right.”
As quickly and gently as he could, he moved her beneath her blankets, making sure she was covered and secure before he marched back out the front door.
In the middle of the meadow, Balar set a wide stance, threw back his head androared.
The sound shook the trees, resonating far and wide through the forest. Birds jumped from their nests in terror, and he heard the goats bleating in fright.
But Balar roared and roared. Lips peeled back and stretched as wide as they could go, he bared his fangs at the world, the fates, the goddess, everything. Let the whole cosmos hear him now and know that this washismate and she wouldnotbe takenfrom him. The world would have to go through him to get to Imogen, and he was a manticore with a mate to protect.
I’ve only just found her—you won’t take her from me!
Balar filled his lungs and roared again. And again. He roared and roared his rage, his panic, his terror.
He roared until the call was answered.
It hadn’t taken his brothers long. The four of them dove into the meadow like arrows, landing at a run. They didn’t stop until they all stood before him, wings lifted high and ears alert.
“Akash-ab,” murmured Akila.
“What’s wrong?” asked Soren.
“Something’s happened—Imogen’s with fever. Diar, go find Sofie Brádaigh. Bring her. Soren, Kiri, tend to the animals, they’re frightened and hungry. Akila, fetch Sorcha, some of the animals are hurt. Go.Now!”
Without question, his brothers moved. Diar and Akila threw themselves back into the sky as Soren and Kiri hurried off to tend the animals.
As for Balar, he ran back into the house. He needed to boil water. Start a fire. Clean the wound. Rebind it. Wash Imogen. Feed Shadow.
Find who did this—rip their head from their neck—gorge on their blood.
Later,he promised himself.When she opens her eyes, we’ll have our revenge.
20
By midafternoon, the meadow and cottage were scenes of bustling activity, something hiskigarawould’ve no doubt disliked. Balar would apologize to her when he could.
