Page 62 of Heart of Night
I’m about to snap my teeth at him just because it’s the only part of me that’s currently close enough to hurt him, but Ayna’s golden form disappears from the corner of my eye, and her scream turns into a caw. Thank Shaelak for the shock locking me in place, or I’d have given away the graceful, powerful bird fluttering straight for Ephegos’s head.
Katrijanov croaks a warning, but it’s a feeble sound, his fingers clutching at his throat as the tang of magic fills the air and I notice Herinor’s flexed fingers at his side. Damn him and his bad choices, but he’s made a good one just now.
Ephegos manages to turn his head in time to meet Ayna’s claws, talons ripping into his face. His scream turns into a caw as he shifts so fast he’s a blur of feathers and skin. Skin, where his feathers were signed in the Flame attack, when he’d faked his death.
He’s taller than Ayna’s bird, but his wings don’t work, keeping him bound to the ground while Ayna flutters above him, Claws coming down again and again. Often enough to force him to shift once more while her talons hit his shield in violent attempts to break through.
My shoulder has almost healed, thanks to the serum Ephegos gave me—one that makes me a better torture victim that can be broken more frequently while it patches itself up in an endless cycle—but my magic ends there. My ability to shift is blocked just like my Crow magic. All I can do is stare in astonishment as my mate beats her elegant wings, feathers shimmering in the torchlight, and brings down her wrath on the male who caused all this misery.
“Grab her,” Ephegos hisses, back in his humanoid form, his cheek bleeding from a cut right beneath his eye. I hope it becomes a thick scar. Since Crow talons are the only thing leaving scars on Crows, the odds are it will.
I don’t know if he spoke to Katrijanov or Herinor, but he whips his magic out, not to capture her. Instead, it lands a blow to my stomach, making pain explode in my abdomen where I’d tried to relax as much as possible while the wound in my shoulder heals. My breath is stolen as every muscle locks up in response, too late to protect itself from the impact.
The bird whimper-caws, and I know she either feels through the bond what happened or watched it happening. Herinor is on his way to her, his fingers reaching high toward the ceiling where Ayna is circling in assessment of the scene, her black eyes piercing Ephegos with the bloodlust of a Crow temper. I know the feeling all too well; it defined most of my life, even when I was able to control my body enough to remain in my almost human form during the times of the curse.
“Watch out!” My shout dies as Ephegos hits me again, with his fist this time, landing a punch to my jaw where the old bruise has been retreating under my healing magic.
Blood coats my tongue, originating from the place my teeth cut into my cheek at the impact. My vision blurs.
Ayna is a dark form flickering in and out of the fading light as I fight to keep my eyes open.
No matter how I tear on my shackles, there is no escaping this, no way for me to save her as Herinor plucks her from the air with a rope of his magic and tucks her under his arm like a bound chicken.
“Let her … go.” My voice is weak, breathless, as I still struggle with the aftereffects of the punch to the stomach, but at least, my healing powers are catching up as if the serum’s effect is still unfolding to its full capacity. If only it would free all of my powers the way the antidote Ephegos gave Ayna does.
A few more heartbeats and my shoulder will be fine, then my jaw will catch up and my stomach… Perhaps then, I’ll be strong enough to free myself.
Katrijanov has other ideas, though. Free of Herinor’s magic once more, he surges forward, slamming his knife into my chest deep enough to pierce my lung, and leaves it there.
“Just so you don’t get any ideas while we take care of your little female,” he says as he shoves at the hilt one last time before turning and heading for Herinor, who does his best impression of a loyal soldier while both Katrijanov and Ephegos inspect Ayna’s thrashing bird’s body with enough caution to know they believe it was her who attacked both of them with a magic she isn’t even aware of. But I’m not quite as certain with Herinor involved in the scene, with the way he meets my gaze across the other’s heads.
“What happened? How did she turn?” Ephegos demands, his voice disappearing between my labored breaths as I keep up my own fight to remain conscious. My body can only heal if the knife is removed. Katrijanov is a particular bastard for knowing that and using it for torture.
“She isn’t supposed to turn,” Herinor says in that measured tone I’m used to, no sign of emotion or remorse for incapacitating the female he just made an obvious attempt at helping. I try to wrap my head around what role he plays in all of this and why, for fuck’s sake, he hasn’t gotten her out of here before Ephegos and Katrijanov kill her. Sure as we all end in Hel’s realm at some point, the Crow has murder in his eyes.
“I’ll be back for you later,” Katrijanov says to me over his shoulder before he leads the party from the room, and all the pain I’ve managed to control in my panic of seeing Ayna hurt bursts through my body with a vengeance.
Thirty-One
Ayna
I’m trapped in a feathered body, all strength I believed I had sucked from my limbs as Herinor carries me up the stairs between his large hands like a pigeon for slaughter. Guardians, I’ve never noticed how enormous his hands are, his fingers reaching around my chest while his magic keeps the rest of me bound.
My scrawny legs ache from uselessly kicking at my restraints, my wings pulse with exhaustion, my tiny heart pumps so fast it might work itself into a standstill. My voice has reduced to meaningless caws, my thoughts to the image of Myron’s eyes as they locked on mine for a brief moment while I was up in the air. Shock and petrification. He hadn’t known I was capable of shifting, just as I hadn’t known—or any of the males currently walking with me.
“The antidote was supposed to lift the effects of the drug slowly. She didn’t have much magic before. Only the water wielding, but that I could have easily controlled if it hadn’t happened so fast.” Ephegos turns to Katrijanov. “You saw her eat the bread, too. She’d eaten at least half of it when we entered her room, and she took another big bite when we were there. That should have been enough to keep her under control for a day if not longer.”
“Something went wrong,” Katrijanov agrees, his gaze flying to Herinor, whose hands are gentle around my body even when his magic holds like steel. He isn’t hurting me now that I’ve stopped fighting. It’s more important for me to hear every word they speak. If I’m not strong enough to escape, I need to be smart enough. And for that, I need all the information I can get.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Herinor grumbles at the general. “I didn’t help her. I caught her for you when you messed up with the drugs.”
He sounds almost convincing to me, but the tiny, reassuring brush of his finger over the side of my tucked wing tells me he has a plan. I also don’t miss Ephegos’s probing glance in Herinor’s direction. He’d know if the male broke his bargain. He’d be dead, not carrying me through the palace.
“Take her to her room,” he orders, already turning into another hallway with Katrijanov. “She needs to shift back before we can do anything else.”
It’s the best motivation I can think of to make me want to stay in this bird form forever, though I don’t doubt they will stop at nothing to force me back into my human body if I don’t cooperate.
Herinor doesn’t change his grim expression as he walks past the few guards spaced out along the main hallway leading up to the residential level, ignoring when they study us with curious interest.