Page 112 of Vengeance Becomes Her

“Then how do you explain that?”

“I can’t.”

Kyra backed away a few steps, eyes never leaving Morana. “There’s no other explanation. That is the thing of legends.”

“What aren’t you telling us?” Samara demanded.

“We don’t have time for this.”

They all waited expectantly, unwilling to accept anything but the truth.

“Something happened when I was taken. There was a power exchange when it tried to force me to become the next host. A moment of doubt. A moment of panic.” She shifted on her feet. “And when that happened, some of its magic transferred to me. And my wolf appeared.” She looked at the creature fondly.

Kyra looked nervous, watching the wolf carefully.

Samara fiddled with the bow in her hand. Her fingers flexing instinctively with the urge to pull an arrowon the threat.

Tristain studied the wolf, his gaze assessing the power that drifted off it in heavy tendrils.

“This is only a fraction of the magic Silas and the Volskruga have access to.”

At the mention of their enemies, Tristain’s eyes shifted across the clearing where the cottage lay in front of him, understanding of their current situation dawning on him. “He’s in there?” Hisvoice was hard.

Rhiannon nodded as she took Kyra’s extended hand. When she was standing again, she approached Tristain’s horse.

“You need to leave. You can’t bring these horses closer, and you know you can’t fight with your leg injured. Why are you here?” She hooked her fingers through the sides of her harness, resisting the urge to reach outand touch him.

“Did you think we would allow you to walk into certain death?” His eyes were weary with pain.

“I wasn’t asking permission. I’m the only one with the ability to fight them now. You need to go back.”

“No.” Kyra stood straighter.

“Nothing but death waits in these woods.” Tristain’s voice wavered as he shifted his weight off his injured leg.

“I know.”

She turned her head toward the cottage. The candlelight stilled burned low. There was no sign of disturbance in the snow from what she could see back here.

“I’m not going to tell you again—”

A blanket of darkness caught her attention from the corner of her eye.

The low rumble that erupted from Morana confirmed her worst fear. The horses started backing away, whinnying nervously.

Samara nocked an arrow as another sweep of darkness fell across the snow.

“Tristain, I’m begging you. Take the horses now. You can still save yourselves. I’ll hold them off.”

His head moved rigidly left to right.

“Fuck you,” she cursed his stubbornness.

The metallic hiss of Kyra’s swords was the first warning that they’d converged upon them.

Rhiannon unsheathed her daggers as she turned slowly, surveying the area around her. Her wolf was snapping and growling at the cluster of naked trees to her left.

There were no sounds. No movement. Still Morana growled.

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