The man lunged suddenly, lifting us easily by our scruff. Our dresses slipped and he gripped tighter. My seared chest groaned in pain and I screamed.
“Easy Marcus,” the guide said, jumping at his brother. “I trust them.” He touched his shoulder and his brother let us down, but didn’t let us go.
He stared into our eyes with pure fire. His hands were strong, yet a gentleness flowed within him. I could feel it. I could feel the love that was behind his anger. It wasn’t us he was angry at, it was Lady Skol.
He felt the gash on my chest and his face changed, recognition passed over it and he turned his hand. Touching it gently. He was like his son then, a face searching me with curiosity. He brought it back, like he’d been burned. He became nervous, biting his lip.
What did he know? What had changed his view of me?
He let us go then, but the fear had long left me. When I looked at Agatha though, it was completely different. She looked on the edge of tears. I took her into a hug and pulled her away from the two men.
The guide pulled his brother away. The sounds of fighting came closer and the men looked out onto the streets. Both began speaking in low tones. Is this what had happened because of the Siren Singer?
I didn’t know what it was, but there was one thing clear, the whole village had been afraid of it. Deathly afraid. The shifters especially hated the sight of it. The two stable boys had shuddered in the stalls on the second passing.
“It’s time,” our guide said, returning to us. “Let’s board the wagon.”
My heart fluttered in fear. “But what about–”
“He’ll meet us outside,” he finished. “Marcus will make sure of it.”
The man known as Marcus smiled widely, “He’ll do more than that.”
We moved to the end of the alleyway, and I became transfixed by the fighting in the square. The guards from Lassig were battling against the many men from the village and soldiers from the visiting packs. I couldn’t understand why the men didn’t change. Why they didn’t shift and become wolves?
Then I saw the fabled Siren Singer atop one of the cliffs on the great pillar that held the Pools of Prophecy. It sat lazily, controlled and leashed, singing softly. It wasn’t watching the fighting below at all.
Below, at the center of the fighting men, stoodhim.He was shirtless, blood stained and gashes bleeding all over his torso. He held a giant spear and watched the singer above, gauging the height and distance.
He took a step backwards, lofted the giant spear and waited. The fighting below increased. The men defending the pools surged forward at the guards, pushing them back across the square. Screams were cut short with blades, and men died on all sides.
The wall of shifters continued surging forward pushing the guards back with bodies, ignoring the spears that stabbed into them, pushing past the well…
Then he moved!
Running forward like lightning he sprinted at the well. As he neared it he jumped onto the wine cart, leaped onto the well roof, and did a final leap, turning one hundred and eighty degrees in the air. He threw the spear in a blink of an eye.
It whistled through the air up at the singer in a heartbeat.
The giant spear impaled the singer through the middle and pinned it back against the wall, burying it into the stone. The beast began screaming, thrashing about as it died. Blood spewed forth and dripped from the wall.
Its curse was lifted and suddenly the guards stopped fighting, fear filled their faces and they turned to run.
Every person in the village that could turn into a werewolf suddenly shifted, and chaos began.
“It’s time we left,” the guide said, bundling us into the wagon. “It’s going to get messy.”
Chapter 8
DION
We spent the first day riding in silence. Even with wandering eyes and unasked questions floating through my mind, I kept to quiet thinking as the women wanted. We still knew little of them, and they hadn’t offered anymore of who they were. But I was beginning to think that the girl, Feyra, was a dormant shifter.
A wolf was waking up.
I reached out tentative probes to see if she would respond or acknowledge me again. It had been so strong the other day, like a cord connecting us. My wolf had howled and words roared in my ears. I’d been too preoccupied to really hear or understand, but had I really heardfated?
She hadn’t given me anything since, her heart was steeled and mouth shut. We’d spoken a little at the inn, when I doused her in water and couldn’t keep myself from staring at her wet body…
