Page 10 of Fate Unchained

Remaining at his side, she whispered the rune word. A small breeze slid through the cave, making the flames dance, and a white glow created a dome through the cave, splitting the dark space in two exactly where she’d pictured. The domed cage pulsed once, then faded, but the awareness of magic made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She stood. “All right, that’s done. Now I’m going to go stay on my side of the cave for the night. You—you’ll be back to normal again soon.”

Stepping briskly, she made for her side. The white dome flared when she reached the perimeter she’d created, showing its border again. Good, it was working well.

She stepped forward to go through.

A jolt seared through her, and she flew backward, slamming into the floor near the vulk, her head smacking the floor. It was like she’d been hit by lightning. The cave around her blurred, and she couldn’t focus. She sat, putting a hand to her head. “What?” Staggering to her feet, she approached the border again, only this time she tiptoed up to the edge of the perimeter. When she got close, she grabbed a pebble on the ground and tossed it. The pebble ricocheted backward.

She gasped. “No, no, no.” She’d been so worried about the vulk she’d remained at his side when she cast the spell. How could she be so stupid? A ball of ice formed in the pit of her stomach, and she swallowed down rising nausea.

She’d said the spell while she stood inside the half of the cave she’d set for the vulk, and now she was trapped in here too.

There was a small scuff behind her. Horror splashed like icy water over her. Feeling as if time moved in slow motion, she turned. The vulk reared to his full height. He crossed his arms, and she swore a small, cruel smile curled one half of his mouth.

She’d trapped herself in with the vulk she’d attacked. And he wasn’t happy.

5

Kyril cocked his head. When the human first charged into his cave, he’d thought it was the male he’d scented earlier, but it wasn’t. While the same odor drifted off the clothes, it was a girl, and she’d run straight at him. He’d been so surprised he’d frozen, giving her enough time to toss powder at him.

How had she felled a vulk yet forgotten to stand outside the little trap she’d set up for him? He shook his head. What a fool.

He stalked forward, and she squealed. She cringed and closed her eyes, putting her arms in front of her. “Don’t eat me!”

He snarled. Ripping a hole in each of her pockets, he was careful not to nick her with his claws. From her left one, a small packet fell out onto the floor, spilling black powder. Growling, he picked it up and tossed it into the fire. She wasn’t going to stun him with her little tricks again.

She lowered her arms and cracked one eye open. He put his back to the fire and studied her. He wasn’t great at guessing human ages, but she looked to be in her twenties. She wore dumpy clothing not suited for the weather, and her wet hair, the color of honey, lay matted flat against her face.

She paled and backed away, as far from him as she could without touching the magic perimeter she’d created. A barrier she apparently didn’t know how to undo so she could walk through it. Her blue eyes, rimmed with thick lashes, were wide and wild as she scanned the cave, maybe searching for an escape route. He didn’t move, only watched as she frantically surveyed the cave.

Fear soured her slightly floral scent. He didn’t know flowers, or particularly care to know them, but she smelled like the small yellow flowers dotting the hills near Rohant in the spring. Maybe they were called buttercups? Their scent was faint, difficult to smell unless he was really hunting for it, but it was like a mix of lavender and apple. A tang of coppery iron also filled the cave.

Blood.

She’d hurt herself when she’d gotten tossed across the cave by her spell. He frowned.

She weaved a little in place. “I’m going to be eaten by a vulk.” And she staggered.

He leaped forward, instinctively springing to catch her, but he was a hair too slow. She slumped to the ground like a sack of flour.

Damn it.

He knelt next to her. Her eyes were closed, and her skin was pale. She was his captor. Why did he care if she was hurt or in a crumple on the floor? But he cradled her head in his hand and rolled her gently to her back. There was a small smear of blood when he moved his palm away. He swore viciously.

The vulk healed quickly unless the wound was from a silver weapon, so he knew little about injuries. Hans’s mate Briony did some healing from time to time, mostly on Ayren after he hurt himself trying to craft furniture yet again, but Kyril never paid much attention.

She wasn’t bleeding much, but even with his limited knowledge, he knew head wounds were tricky. He leaned in close. Her breathing was even and regular, and her heart beat steadily. He’d make her comfortable and wait for her to wake up.

Why was he helping her?

He growled. He knew why, and he didn’t like it.

When she’d put her small hand on his chest, he’d forgotten he lay on the floor like a chump and gotten lost studying how blue her eyes were. Though he was paralyzed by her powder, unable to do more than breathe, his cock somehow hardened, the arousal fiercer than any he’d ever felt.

Yet she was a human who’d trapped him. An enemy. Although, a pretty poor one.

Was she part of the Dark Cabal? Being inept with magic seemed like a fit. What he’d seen of the Dark Cabal wasn’t all that impressive, other than them stealing a grimoire.

Her eyes remained closed.

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