As the beast lowered its head, Malcolm had a clear view beyond. A view to the body lying at the edge of the clearing.
A woman’s body, her fiery red hair soaked in a pool of blood. A woman he recognized.
“Isabella?”
His step faltered and the beast, as if sensing the break in his concentration, roared, a sound so loud it was as if the ground shook under his feet. In the same instant it leaped toward him, impacting his body with an unimaginable force. Together they flew through the air, landing with an enormous thud, the beast on top of him.
Malcolm struggled to press his sword upward and out from his chest, the only barrier between him and the monster wolf. One hand on the hilt, one on the blade, he kept the snapping jaws at bay only inches above him. The heat of the beast’s breath splayed over his face even as great foaming globules of spittle bubbled from the enraged animal’s muzzle, stringing down into his face to mingle with drops of his own blood from the hand holding the blade.
He must be strong. He couldn’t give in to the pain.
He was all that stood between this beast and his family, but with the Battle Rage broken, he didn’t know how much longer he could hold him off.
NO BOOK, NOmovie, not even her wildest nightmare had ever prepared Dani for the sheer terror and violence of this moment.
Just as she’d realized that Dermid would be no help at all, Malcolm had arrived, bare-chested, the mark over his heart glowing with an unearthly light. With his speed and his sword flashing, he’d been like some death dancer sent by God.
And then, in a flash of movement and sound, the beast leapt through the air, smashing Malcolm flat to the ground.
“No!” she screamed, on her feet and running.
Not even Malcolm could hold that beast back for long.
“Help me,” she yelled to Dermid as she passed him huddled on the ground. No time to wait to see if he heard or not.
She threw herself at the beast, banging her shoulder into his side, hoping to dislodge him from his spot on Malcolm’s chest.
He barely budged, but swung his head in a wide arc, knocking her backward to the ground.
Pushing up to her feet, she rushed him a second time, screaming, tangling her fingers in his fur and pulling with all her might.
His muzzle lifted in a great roar and he swung his head at her again, sending her backward into the dirt.
The landing was hard and it took a moment to catch her breath. Her hip hurt when she stood this time. Walking was tough, running would be next to impossible, but she couldn’t give up. From this angle she could see tracks of blood along Malcolm’s side where the wolf had scored him with its claws.
Bare hands weren’t working. A weapon was what she needed. Something that could hold the animal’s attention long enough to allow Malcolm to get to his feet. She dug in the pouch at her waist as she limped back toward the wolf, her hand fastening around the only object even remotely weapon-like, the small wooden fork Malcolm had carved for her.
From behind him, she jumped onto his back and, using his fur to pull herself up, straddled him like a horse. He roared in obvious anger, tossing his head from side to side, but she held on, drawing back her arm and slicing down through the air, driving the tines of the fork into the animal’s neck.
A scream, more human than animal, reverberated through the forest as the animal reared onto his hind legs, knocking Dani from her tenuous perch. She tightened her grip in his fur in an attempt to hang on while the animal bucked and reared, but the force of his movements slung her from his back, his fur slicing into her skin as it slid through her fingers. The ground came up to meet her quickly, slamming the air from her lungs.
The great beast reared one last time before toppling over onto his side, his legs twitching even as the rest of his body stilled.
Not waiting to catch her breath, she rolled to her hands and knees, crawling toward the spot where Malcolm laid, his body unmoving. She had almost reached him when something hit her, knocking her back toward the tree line. Something that felt like an ocean wave buffeting her, picking up and tossing her as if she were nothing more than a piece of loose seaweed.
She managed to roll to her side in time to see the wolf’s body shimmer, as if she viewed it through a pane of aged wavy glass, and then erupt in a shower of sparks that flew high into the trees before they fell back to earth.
Dani ducked, covering her head with her arms as the embers rained down, burning her skin where they landed.
When she looked up again, the wolf was gone and Torquil laid in the spot where the beast had been, naked and still, the fork protruding from the side of his neck.
It didn’t matter that she didn’t understand. She didn’t care. There was only one thing that did matter to her right now.
“Malcolm!”
Her head pulsed with the force of whatever had hit her just as her body screamed out with the battering, but she pressed on, forcing herself up to her knees.
Across from her, Malcolm struggled to push up on one elbow and then roll to his stomach. Using his sword as a crutch, he managed to pull himself up and stagger toward Torquil’s body. He paused there for a moment, staring down at his brother, a myriad of emotions flowing over his face. Then, as if he’d come to some decision, he raised his sword, both hands wrapped around the hilt, prepared for the strike.
