was nothing but concern shining in his intense stare.
My heart twisted. Too bad it took me putting my life in danger for him to look at me like that.
Turning back to the Myad, I slowly undid the belt from my breeches. The Myad tilted his head, eyeing the black leather contraption. A low warning growl rumbled at the back of his throat.
It’s not a weapon. I promise. Folding my belt, I shoved it into my mouth between my teeth. Not a single sound. I breathed deeply and focused on the beast realm. My power flooded outward, pulsating to the cadence of my heart. The Myad stood before crouching low against the ground. Tension gathered in all his muscles, and he eyed my left shoulder. Screwing my eyes shut, I clenched down on my belt.
I heard the kick-up of dirt as he lunged. The back of my head smacked against the ground, forcing my eyes open, and a blinding heat surged from my shoulder as his fangs sank easily into flesh. The world slipped out from beneath me as pain blurred the lines of the trees and the sky, blending colors in ways that shouldn’t have been possible.
Somewhere far off, Noc shouted my name. How he managed to work his vocal cords in spite of Grundy’s gravity was beyond me. As long as it wasn’t me screaming, it didn’t matter. I was the Myad’s prey. I had to submit. Let his viscous saliva ooze into my system and connect us so he could examine my past and determine my worth.
Step three.
Dark splotches bled across my vision. With his saliva came a slow-moving, searing agony that dredged through my veins. Heat rammed my skull and forced thick tears from my eyes. The jungle disappeared. All I could see were memories. Blue magic streamed loosely around me, formed raging fires that lined a long and endless path. Flames licked my skin, and I fought against the urge to scream. The only way out was through. I took a few careful steps, bit back cries as the fire burned through my mind. The Myad scrutinized my worst dealings. They played on repeat, and my heart shuddered as I watched every beast trade I’d ever made. Every innocent creature I’d placed in unworthy hands.
The violent blue flames burned brighter. Hotter. My insides cooked. The Myad was angry. But I had to keep going, keep sifting through every bad choice I’d ever made. If I couldn’t face myself, my mind would be burned to ash.
Visions shifted. A bloodied Kost appeared with broken, twisted fingers. My own hands throbbed with mirrored pain. I’d done vile things to survive, and Kost hadn’t been my first victim. Countless other visages appeared. Each hurt I’d inflicted sparked to life again in my own limbs. My body was battered and bruised, but it was nothing compared to what I’d done.
But I did it to survive. Tears flowed without restraint. It was such a hollow excuse. Even now, it felt fragile. So breakable and horrendous. Why was their suffering, their pain necessary?
I had to… If not for Wynn… The memories jumped as if they’d been electrocuted. Violent flames slashed against me, and suddenly I was there again. Standing in our bedroom while Wynn slept peacefully. We’d only just been together, and my skin was still warm from his touch. I’d slipped out of the sheets for some water when his journal caught my eye. He normally kept it locked away in his study, and my naive, younger self had hoped it would be filled with musings about me. About our love.
I was so utterly wrong.
I’d peeled back the leather cover and thumbed through the pages, pausing to read notes about beast-taming ingredients or foreign magic. But the further I read, the darker his entries became. Formerly beautiful handwriting turned cramped and erratic. His thoughts were incoherent, jumbled, dark. He wrote about failed tamings. About the impressive will of man.
I’d snapped the journal shut. Placed it back on his nightstand and crawled into bed without getting my drink. Squeezed my eyes closed and forced myself to forget, to willfully misunderstand. To curl against him and draw comfort from the only person I had left in my life.
If only I’d acted then, maybe that human would’ve survived.
What had I done? How had I allowed myself to stoop so low? All the excuses I created, all the lies I spoon-fed myself—not one of them mattered. I couldn’t take back what had happened with Wynn or