Page 83 of On Broken Bonds

Another creature.

Another prey.

It doesn't matter. The swamp doesn't matter. The other competitors don't matter. The only thing that matters is the male fleeing from me. Then the scent changes.

Nyx. The realization crashes into me so suddenly that I nearly stumble. Nyx.

The dark-haired male isn't alone. He carries her. Protects her. Keeps her above the water.

The image cuts through the rage briefly. Nyx on his back. Nyx holding onto him. Nyx safe. Safe because of him.

Confusion works its way through the fury.

The dark-haired male hurt her.

But he also protects her.

The thought hurts. It doesn't fit. It doesn't make sense. The certainty I've been chasing begins to crack. The dark-haired male reaches the far shore. He sets her down carefully. Carefully.

The rage falters. Just for a second. A terrible second. And suddenly I feel the swamp. Really feel it.

The water grips my legs. It pulls at me. Drags on me. The magic that seemed so distant before rushes back all at once.

Hunger. Need. Consumption. The swamp wants me. It wants everything inside me. My strength. My life. My soul.

I stagger. The water surges around my waist now. No. Too deep. Too slow. Wrong.

Something brushes my ankle. Then another thing. Then dozens. The swamp is full of hands. Not real hands. Dead hands. Soul hands. Ghost hands. I don't know. I only know they're there. Reaching. Clawing. Begging. A million desperate voices rise beneath the water.

Stay.

Stay.

Stay.

The sound isn't spoken aloud. It's felt. A pressure. A longing. An endless misery.

One voice is stronger than the others. The knight. The one who fell. Cedric. His grief crashes into me like a wave. His terror. His loneliness. His desperate need not to be alone. He wraps himself around my legs and pulls.

Not physically.

It’s something worse.

Spirit against spirit.

Despair against hope.

I stumble again. The red haze begins to fade. The beast weakens even more. No. No. Not yet. Need to⁠—

Nyx.

I look up.

The far shore swims in and out of focus. Nyx stands at the edge of the water. Her hands are cupped around her mouth. She's shouting. Screaming. Calling for me.

The sound can't reach me through the voices beneath the swamp. But I can see her. I can see the panic on her face. The fear.

And for the first time since changing, I remember why I'm here. Not Thorian. Not rage. Not revenge. Family. My family. Her family. The promise we made. The reason we're fighting.