Page 83 of Wolves of the Rising Moon

“I don’t think you can actually stop me, so either move and let me do what I do, or don’t. But either way, I’m helping my mate.”

Rafe looses an ear-shattering growl. “I hate this, Willa! I can’t see you out there in danger! I can’t. It kills me.”

I don’t know what to say to that.

“Willa,” Jonah says smoothly. “Just don’t bitch-slap us to our knees again. Let us come with you, OK? That’s fair, right?”

Yeah. Yes. I could do that. “Don’t get in my way, though.”

Jonah agrees, and Rafe… well, Rafe doesn’t really agree, but he doesn’t stop me either.

My men move off me slowly and I shoot off the ground and head right for Drago’s side.

Rafe and Jonah flank me. I feel them there, but again, I know they can’t reach me.

I’m here but not. In my body, but also outside of it.

The moment I reach Drago, I touch the scar encircling his arm. “The creature is in your head, Champion, making you doubt yourself because it knows it can’t beat you fair and square. I need you to hear me, Drago.”

Drago’s trapped, locked in a staring match with the Wendigo.

The creature continues, clacking bones punctuating every word. “You’re the worst of them all. Alpha slayer. Family breaker.”

“Drago! Listen to me! You looked in its eyes, and it’s in your head, telling you your worst fears. You must look away.”

He doesn’t move, and his skin grows cold. The scars on his body recede, melting back into his flesh.

I don’t know for certain what’s happening, but I know for certain I can’t let it go on.

“Look away, Drago! Now!” I say, and it comes out like a fearsome order.

And Drago does. He rips his gaze from the creature’s soulless eyes. And Drago takes a breath for the first time since I’ve been at his side.

“Only you know what’s in your heart, Champion. Only you know the truth of this. This creature can’t tell you who you are.”

“What is this?” The Wendigo's hissing question blows across my face. “A righteous one. A good and guileless soul. What I wouldn’t give to have a taste of your sweet flesh, wolf.”

I stare just past its ear, or where its ear would be, and it doesn’t seem as big as it should. Not nearly as big as it was before.

Was it shrinking?

Roars bellow behind me and, like a snake strike, Drago reaches out and snatches the Wendigo by the neck. He slams it into the ground and reaches for his blade.

The Wendigo laughs. “You can’t stab bones and spirit, fool.”

“And you can’t kill the righteous,” Drago says, and stabs the creature in the eye.

It screams and hisses, writhing on the ground. “My beautiful eye! What have you done?” It claws at the blade, pulling it free. “You cannot kill me, Champion. I’m part of the cycle of life and death. I’m the balance. The great Culling Force. I am eternal. And thinking you have a say in that is only…” The Wendigo wraps its skeletal hands tight around Drago’s wrist. “… going to get you hurt.”

He takes off, shooting into the sky so fast, it takes Drago a minute to realize what’s happened.

“Until we meet again, Champion,” the voice is everywhere and nowhere.

And just as Drago falls to his knees, the Wendigo drops Drago’s entire right arm on the ground in front of him.

Shock is a weird thing.

It protects the body from feeling too much pain.

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