Page 106 of Kiss of Fire

“Kill him, Silas.” Leona eyed Tor triumphantly. “While the Vulcani watches.”

The centaur started forward and Raya mentally urged Tor to run. But he held his ground. She strained to see what he was doing. It seemed to her his hand was in mid air. The centaur stopped and shook his head irritably. Tor slowly brought his palm down and the bestial sank to his knees.

“Silas, what in the name of the gods are you doing?” Leona shrieked. “Kill him!”

“Don’t want to,” muttered the centaur sullenly. “Don’t take orders from you.”

Tor took a step forward and now he was in Raya’s line of sight. He glanced over at her and she saw his eyes were a bright emerald. She realised what he’d done. He’d used his Sylvan ability to manipulate the bestial’s aura. She hadn’t realised he was so powerful.

Tor skirted round the now-docile centaur and came to stand in front of her.

“Let me take that rose from you,” he smiled, and reached for her hand. Raya was overwhelmed with relief, eager for him to take the cursed thorns out of her palm.

There was a peculiar noise, almost like an insect whining past them. Tor’s expression changed.

What?Raya was puzzled.What’s wrong? Get this fucking rose away from me.

Then red bloomed on the front of his shirt like a malignant flower. He glanced at it then back to her, his face almost apologetic. Horrified, Raya watched, powerless, as he sank to his knees. He tried to speak but no sound came out.

Tor!

He fell forward. That’s when Raya caught a glimpse of the arrow sticking from his back.

Thirty Nine

Her mind screamed in shock and grief. Tears coursed down her face. Adrenaline flooded through her body and her muscles started to shake. But she still couldn’t move.

Tor had fallen below her eyeline. She couldn’t look down and she didn’t know if he was alive or dead.

A figure walked up to the centaur. Another bestial, she saw through the tears. This one had goat legs and little horns sprouting above furry ears. He was carrying a bow and had a quiver full of arrows slung across his back. He kicked the centaur on his rump.

“Get up, you weak-minded idiot.”

“Fralling Sylvans.” The centaur heaved himself onto all four legs jerkily. “Always fralling messing with your auras. Where’ve you been, Bellemar? We were looking for you.”

“Saving your hides, that’s where I was. Well, hello, there.” The satyr turned to Leona and stared openly. “You’re as beautiful as King Aelfric described. Is it true you can adopt any form?”

“What did you have in mind?” she purred. He smiled lasciviously.

“A sylph, perhaps? Or maybe a siren. I’ve always fancied tupping a siren.”

“Keep your fantasies to yourself,” grumbled Silas. “We’ve been here too long already. Lift her on and let’s go.”

The satyr was stronger than he looked. He lifted Raya and dumped her across the centaur’s back like a sack of potatoes. Her head dangled down and she saw Tor lying motionless. She tried to see if he was still breathing, but all she could focus on was the blood pooled beneath his body.

Despair filled her heart.

“You can’t leave her like that,” complained Silas. “She’ll fall off and then Aelfric will slaughter us both.”

“Fine. You’ll have to carry me as well, then.”

The satyr vaulted on board. Silas grunted.

“You’re heavier than you look, goat.”

“Stop whining. And what about you, my fine shapeshifter?” He winked at Leona. “Do you want to scooch in behind me? You can hold on as tight as you like.”

“Thank you, but I’ll make my own way. It’s less conspicuous than travelling with a pair of bestials. You’d better keep off the main route. The jinn will know she’s missing soon, if he hasn’t figured it out already.”

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