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The words of the old language fell off his tongue as if he spoke the language himself.
I repeated the ancient words with him.
“Arte magica coniuncta, potentia nostra multiplicatur et floret. Arte magica coniuncta, potentia nostra multiplicatur et floret. Arte magica coniuncta, potentia nostra multiplicatur et floret.”
Please, goddess,I begged.Give to him what you have given to me. Heal him. Let him live.
A rush of fire filled my veins, followed by a chilling, icy coolness.
It was working.My magic radiated from me, moving to him as if it belonged to him, as if it submitted to him.
As if he owned it.
“Wolf,” I breathed. It wasn’t painful, but my bones recognized this magic as leaving.
A bond worked both ways. If he took from me, I would have to take something from him.
Wolf grimaced, clutching his healing torso.
I felt the dam of magic raise, blocking anything else from pouring into him.
“You can’t keep it all,” I reminded him. “Stop fighting it, Wolf. This is the only way!” I gripped onto his waist, just outside his own hands. “Stop holding back. I can handle it.” My eyes pleaded with his.
I saw what he felt: the pain, the pure agony.
But it didn’t matter. This was how the bond worked.
He tried to hold his emotions back from me, tried to spare me from whatever he felt. But we completed the bond. There was nothing he could do that would stop me from feeling it.
“You feel my strength,” I reminded him. “You know I am not weak, Wolf. Pain is no stranger to me. YouknowI can handle it.”
Something like pity fluttered across his pain-riddle features.
And then I felt it.
I barely made it to my feet before doubling over, wrapping both hands around my stomach.
Deeply rooted numbness hit me first, much deeper and much colder than I had ever felt it. My body recognized this as Wolf immediately, and I had no choice but to pull even more. A brief, agonizing pain in my stomach told me it was working; I was feeling what he felt.
The hunger came next.
It was demobilizing, all-consuming. I did not recognize it as hunger for a few seconds, only because it was so much stronger than any craving I’d ever felt.
And it wasn’t for food.
Wolf stood up, finally stopping his stomach from bleeding with the help of my magic. He shared my strength now, my magic, my being.
“Huntyr,” Wolf said softly, as if approaching a sleeping monster. “Are you alright?”
I swallowed and stood, trying to keep a straight face.
My stomach dropped. A storm of dread, hunger, and agony rushed in; emotions I had felt before, but never in so much force.
You don’t want to feel what I feel.
I might have collapsed entirely under the weight of Wolf’s bond if it weren’t for the creatures in the forest moving closer.
We had to move. Fight or die.
