Page 42 of A Touch of Shadows

There was so much Finn was going to have to explain to her about his family. His brother. He should have done it already. Now Leander would twist everything and he’d never be able to untangle it for her.

Finn lowered his gaze to the floor and desperately tried to figure out a way to get the two of them out of this without dying, or causing an international incident that could plunge both kingdoms into a war again.

Maybe Wren realised it too. A subtle change seemed to shimmer over her. Not magic. Not exactly. Something else. All he could do was stare.

Slowly Wren rose and crossed the pavilion floor, barefoot, the silken robe whispering about her body. Scent from the costly oils in the bathwater trailed behind her, lingering around him, reminding him of exactly what was walking away right now, of what he might lose forever.

The ache in his body was almost a physical pain. He had to watch her. He had to look up and see. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Everything about her was magical. If he had any lingering doubts about her, they vanished now. She didn’t just have control of magic. She was magic. She lived and breathed it.

‘Your hands,’ said Leander and she held them out, palms up. He took them in his, long fingers wrapping around hers. ‘Close your eyes and let me into your mind.’

‘No,’ Finn said, before he could think better of it, and his brother glared at him.

And just like that his game was over. The prince was bored. He’d had enough and Finn was breaking his stupid rules.

‘Guards,’ he barked. Wren jerked back, but he didn’t let her go. He held her in a grip like iron as two of his guards entered the pavilion. He nodded at Finn. ‘If he so much as sighs, cut his tongue out.’ Leander’s men surrounded him in an instant.

‘No! Don’t you dare hurt him!’ Wren tried to yank herself free but Leander just laughed and pulled her down on top of him. She struggled in his arms and Finn found himself rising before he knew what he was doing. The need to protect her took over.

The blow to his stomach took the wind right out of him. They didn’t hold back. Why would they? The more damage they did to him the better Leander would like it. They all knew that.

Then Wren opened her mouth and screamed, a high and piercing sound that made him lose his mind. There was no other word for the sea of rage that crashed down on him.

Something seized him, inside and out, a light so bright it blinded him, burning through him like a firestorm. The same power as the night before, that blazing light of the Aurum she had poured into him to save him. And now it reacted to save her.

His body moved without thought, without reason. He tasted blood, felt his hands tearing through meat and howled with the need to kill. The two guards didn’t stand a chance and he didn’t care. He’d never hesitated to do whatever was necessary if the need presented itself, but he had always felt a sense of regret that it had been necessary. Human life was not to be wasted, or discarded. But this was different. This was a primal drive coming from deep in the back of his brain, rising from the pit of his stomach. It could not be ignored.

Wren needed him, and he had to protect her.

Light pumped through his body with his blood, fired with every breath. There were more guards coming, more than he could normally hope to defeat, but he didn’t care. He hurled himself at them and took them down.

‘Finn!’ Wren cried out. The horror in her voice was the only thing that could have stopped him.

He was hers. He knew it better than he knew his own name. Hers. Her creature. Now and forever.

Leander was on his feet, holding her like a shield against his body, a knife pressed to her throat, so close the tip already drew blood. His brother was pale and the trembling in his hand might have been rage. But Finn doubted it.

‘What have you done?’ the prince hissed at her. ‘What have you done to him?’

‘Don’t hurt him,’ she whispered and her voice sounded broken, afraid of what he had become.

Hurt him? As if that was possible. Nothing could hurt him right now.

He was the wild animal, the hunter, and the forest itself. He was death waiting in the darkness. He was a firestorm.

Leander had given up pretending. ‘Then tell him to stand down, bitch. Or this will end here and now. I’d hate to have to hurt you, but rein him in or things will get very unpleasant very fast.’

If he hurt her, Finn would tear him to shreds.

He felt the growl inside him building, rising, felt a desperate hunger, the need to kill anything that threatened her.

‘Finn,’ she whispered and her eyes were heartbreak itself. ‘I-I’m sorry.’

She had done this to him, made him strong, made him wild, and he didn’t regret it for an instant.

He burned for her. Only for her.

Finn hesitated. Why was she sorry?