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“Maybe before,” she remarks. “But when the horn was activated, the magic dredged from the depths of the Fae hells amplified his primal urges a hundred fold, including that. If he finds you before it wears off, he won’t be able to control himself.”
“You don’t know him, Ruby—”
“He’s an Evermore, Kid. He may have been able to resist the mating bond before, but only because he spends every second around you fighting the beast that lives inside him. The Fae are tied to nature in a way mortals will never understand, but the Evermore have a direct line to that raw, ancient power. Have you ever seen something in nature not take what it wants?”
Take what it wants? I shiver. “So, you’re saying . . .?”
“If he finds you in his present state, nothing in this world will stop him from making you his mate.”
I know the power of that bond as is—but amplified a hundred fold? I can’t even imagine something that strong.
Before I can respond, a low growl sounds from the forest line.
The hound.
I flick a desperate glance to the other side to see Asher fighting another Evermore, this one nearly completely shifted into a bear. Their roars reverberate through the canyon.
I pivot back to face the hound just as the lupine beast bursts from the trees. As I take in the fiery red eyes, shaggy coal-black fur rippling with muscle, and bared fangs, primal terror takes hold, stripping the air from my lungs. er save me, I’m like a giant dog toy that’s been stuffed with peanut butter and a squeaker. My body is basically screaming eat me please.
A shout drags my focus to the north just in time to spot the first hound. The giant ebony beast bursts from the churning sea of mist blanketing the hills. The size of a truck, the creature appears more wolf than hound.
Frozen, I take in the glowing red eyes and snarling snout, lined with jagged fangs and slobber.
Then I’m sprinting with the others as we run for our lives.
13
Despite being gripped by absolute, blind panic, my mind somehow decides it’s helpful to remind myself this is the second time this week I’ve had to literally run for my life.
Gazelle. You’re a mother-freaking gazelle.
Just like a gazelle, I fight and claw my way to the inside of the pack. National Geographic taught me the animals on the outside get picked off first.
Strength in numbers. I leap over a falling girl just before she disappears into the mist. My sandals are long gone, my dress riding up my thighs.
Maybe my pasty white ass will scare away the hounds. Either that or act as a beacon that draws them to me.
“That’s it, Kid!” Ruby roars where she clings to the top of my head, her tiny fists clumped into my hair. I don’t even have the mental capacity right now to be affronted by her riding my skull like a jockey.
Shouldering my way to the front, I scan the faces of the terrified shadows, desperate to find Mack.
“Leave her,” Ruby demands. “Dragon boy will keep her safe.”
I don’t care what Ruby says. I’m not leaving my friend until I see her with Asher.
Mist swirls around our waists, so thick I can’t make out the ground. The baying of the hounds is growing louder.
Four shadows go down ahead, tripped by something.
“Jump!” Ruby shrieks just as the top few inches of a hedge appear in front of me.
Fueled on adrenaline, I leap, clearing the bush like an Olympic hurdler.
“Again!”
My heart pounds in rhythm to my feet as I sprint, leap. Sprint, leap. My need to find Mack overrides my urge to help those who have fallen.
As I’m forced to block out their cries, my hatred for the Fae surges into a searing inferno.
