Chapter 32

Fearfor those we care about steals our wisdom.

~ Dionadra, Essays on the Motivations of Men

“No!” Kaylina shouted and hammered the mace against the metal bars.

She didn’t expect the men to listen, not when the beast was springing into their midst, claws slashing and jaws snapping. But she hoped to distract them, to keep the ones with crossbows from firing. Nobody had muskets or blunderbusses, but those quarrels could drive through an eye and pierce a man’s brain. Pierce Vlerion’s brain.

He didn’t look at her as he tore into the men. Weapons slashed for his head and torso, but he moved so quickly that she couldn’t follow his blurring claws. And the power he struck with… Men flew backward into each other and the cave walls. An arm torn free from its body thudded to the ground not five feet from her cell, blood spattering the bars and her dress.

Horrified—and terrified—Kaylina backed up. Since transforming, Vlerion hadn’t looked at her and didn’t seem aware of her at all. His eyes were the same blue as when he was a man, but there was no recognition in them, no indication of thinking at all. Only the killer instincts the curse had embedded in him.

The druids must have wanted this, Kaylina realized numbly as the beast beheaded a man before springing toward another. It was their revenge, that a human turn into an animal to slay his own kind, whether those people deserved death or not. The druids must have felt that all men were a blight on the world.

“What is that thing?” someone yelled.

“A gorilla?” another replied, aiming at Vlerion’s head.

By accident or instinct, the beast sensed the threat and ducked. The quarrel skimmed through his fur without digging in.

“Not with those claws!”

A blade struck the beast, leaving a bloody gash in his shoulder, but he didn’t slow. He slashed, enemies falling with each blow.

Crossbows fired. Most of the quarrels went wild, but Kaylina winced when one gouged deep into the beast’s thigh. He roared but, again, didn’t slow down.

The men who’d yelled and scattered when Vlerion transformed ran for the stairs.

“Run, you fools,” one called back. “This isn’t the battle we came for.”

But the beast blocked others who tried to run. Another crossbow quarrel took him in the back of the shoulder. His armor, loose but still on, protected him from a third. His shredded clothes hung limply, no help at all. His boots were missing entirely.

The number of enemies had dwindled, but Kaylina worried the beast would be overcome. If one of those quarrels found a vital target…

She stepped toward the gate, tempted to help, even if she could only thump one or two crossbowmen in the backs of their heads to keep them from firing. But when the beast’s gaze swung in her direction, it was devoid of humanity, and she knew without a doubt that he would kill her just as he was killing the men.

Swallowing, Kaylina backed up and closed the gate. If she could figure out a way to help from within the safety of the cell, she would, but going out there would be suicidal. That frustrated her enough that she also wanted to roar and howl.

The guard had left the key in the lock of the gate. She turned it and removed it, ensuring nobody could enter unless she let them in.

More intruders scurried up the stairs, abandoning their comrades. The beast was down to three enemies. So many men lay dead on the ground that Kaylina couldn’t count them all. Twelve? Fifteen? More? Blood washed the stone floor like someone had hurled paint buckets about.

As the beast sprang onto another man, one who’d tried to escape but hadn’t made it, Kaylina caught movement behind her. The guard was stirring again.

Though he lay on his belly, brow creased with pain, he looked at her with fury in his eyes. His focus was so pure that he didn’t seem to see what was going on outside the cage. He drew a dagger from his belt and pushed himself to his elbows.

“Are you still going after me, you bastard?” Kaylina hefted the mace.

He pushed himself up, raising the dagger to throw. She sprang forward, fear more than bravery motivating her—she couldn’t deal with a threat within as well as one without—and she kicked. Though he saw the attack coming and tried to pull his arm back, her fear made her fast, and she connected with his wrist.

The blade flew from his grip and clanged off one of the bars, the sound loud in a cave that had grown quiet. The guard looked at it and started to lunge after it. She swung the mace, striking him in the head again.

Once more, he pitched to the ground. After as many times as he’d risen, she didn’t know if she had finally knocked him unconscious.

Mace aloft, she watched him for movement.

The beast sprang from the shadows and landed halfway up the front of the cell, furred paws wrapping around the bars. Startled, Kaylina skittered away as he rattled them, powerful muscles rippling under that sleek fur, his form huge this close.

She trembled, almost dropping the mace, but she made herself tighten her grip, terrified she would have to defend herself against him.

Wild fury burned in his inhuman eyes. Though his enemies lay dead behind him, the beast wasn’t done killing.

“It’s me, Vlerion.” Kaylina made herself meet his gaze, hoping to get through to him.

Snarling, he pulled at the bars. Metal groaned, and a bolt tore free, clinking on the ground. By the gods, he was strong. There was no way she could defend herself against him. She had to get through to him another way.

She tried to hum the tune she’d heard from him numerous times, but she didn’t have any musical experience and hadn’t paid that much attention to the melody. Could he even hear her over his attempts to break the bars?

She tried singing a nursery rhyme from her youth about fish and eels, but her voice cracked and quavered. Even when she wasn’t afraid for her life, she didn’t have a knack for song.

The beast shifted to the gate, trying to yank it open.

As Kaylina backed farther, her heel hit something on the ground. The book.

Without dropping the mace, she grabbed it and opened it.

“Proper behavior for young rangers,” she read, hoping vainly that hearing the words—and the mention of rangers—would get through to Vlerion, would remind him that he was, at the heart, a brave and noble warrior with honor and ethics. He wasn’t an animal.

With a great wrenching of metal, the beast tore the gate off the hinges. He flung it to the ground ten feet away and sprang into the cell.

Fumbling the book, Kaylina almost screamed. The guard lifted his head, eyes bleary with confusion. The beast sprang not for Kaylina but for him. With an enraged roar, he hefted the guard to his feet and used those preternaturally powerful muscles to rip the man’s head off.

This time, Kaylina did scream as the head landed on the ground between her and the beast. She backed until she struck the cell wall and could go no farther, raising both book and mace though neither would defend her from his might.

The beast crouched, his chest heaving from the long battle, his eyes locking onto her. But he didn’t spring. He stared intensely at her, fangs and claws dripping blood.

Though Kaylina had never been more afraid in her life, she lifted the book again. The tremor to her hands made it difficult to read but she did her best.

“Proper behavior for young rangers… is to be respectful toward fellow humans… whether noble or common.” She licked her lips. Why was her mouth so dry? “And also to honor the ancient treaty with the taybarri.”

The beast’s eyes remained locked on her. He hadn’t moved and did seem to be listening.

“Upon return from battle, tend your mount before feeding yourself. Wash, groom, and give it sustenance. This duty shows respect and strengthens your bond with the taybarri while also calming the mind of the ranger, so often agitated after battle. No kidding,” she muttered, glancing into the eyes of the beast, hoping to find Vlerion in there somewhere.

“My,” he rasped in an inhuman voice, the word barely understandable.

Kaylina stared. Somehow, she’d never imagined the beast would talk.

“What?” she whispered.

He reached toward her while looking her up and down, his gaze lingering on the tear in her dress. With a possessive glint in his eyes and his voice a snarl, he said, “My female.”

“Uhm.”

He glanced at the dead guard. “My female.”

“That’s right.” Kaylina decided agreement was a good idea, but the thought that the beast might want to celebrate his triumph with sex made her tremble with fear. The memory of Isla’s scars came to her. Scars her husband had left on her when he’d been the beast.

Kaylina jerked the book back up and continued reading, emphasizing the words ranger and respect and honor when she crossed them, hoping they would bring back his humanity. Hoping—

The beast growled and stepped toward her. It sounded more like a contented growl than a savage growl, but that didn’t reassure her. She kept reading and wondered if she should try singing again.

He took another step. And another. He was close enough to touch her—to rip her head off or do whatever he wished to her. The book shook so much that she couldn’t read the words any longer.

He reached out with a claw and traced her cheek, as he’d done with his finger earlier to brush a tear away.

“Vlerion,” Kaylina said softly, again making herself meet his eyes.

For the first time, something was there, something human. Then he collapsed at her feet.