have to dig up holes in every square inch of your property, I will.”
“I am afraid your task is fruitless. Helen was a pureblood Draicon, and her powers from the earth itself. She would have cloaked the texts with so many safeguards only the most ancient and knowledgeable of our pack could safely find them.”
Doubt touched the male’s face as he surveyed Raphael. “Our pack, not a mixed-blood pack, that is. Our past Kallans have also been purebloods, elders who had great powers and could accomplish such a feat. I am not certain if your powers are sufficient enough to uncover Helen’s hiding place deep in the earth.”
Urien’s chiding tone grated on Raphael’s last nerve. “I assure you, my powers are more than sufficient.”
“Perhaps if I were to witness a test to be assured of this.”
He was not a circus performer who performed tricks at everyone else’s bidding, but if it erased the doubts in the Alpha male’s mind and helped Emily…
He hated sacrificing his pride but would do so this one time for his draicara’s sake. Swallowing his disquiet, Raphael stood, stretching his big, powerful body to its full height, emphasizing his larger, more muscled physique over Urien’s shorter, almost delicate body. Red wolf. Smaller, agile.
Pureblood, who possessed knowledge Raphael had been denied, simply due to his pack’s status in the Draicon hierarchy.
“What test did you have in mind? Uncover the earth with a wave of my hands? Singe the grass with a lightning bolt?” He gave his most intimidating stare, the one that froze the bravest Draicon in their tracks. Urien lowered his gaze. Still, Raphael wasn’t satisfied, but disgusted.
He’d never met an Alpha Draicon who could not stand his ground. Small wonder the male wasn’t willing to fight for Emily’s life but chose to execute her as if she were a bothersome burden. Alpha males were supposed to protect all their pack females. Damian, a powerful and pureblood Alpha male, would lay down his life for a member of his pack and would never meekly back away from a confrontation.
No one was willing to fight for Emily. His temper flared. “Let’s get this over with,” he snapped. Raphael jerked a thumb at the door. “Outside.”
In the pristine yard, with acres of meadow grass flowing down a gentle slope, he spotted a likely target. Raphael inhaled deeply, trying to get Urien’s scent. He smelled earth and forest. Urien was Draicon.
Raphael turned and saw a face staring down from the upstairs window. Soon, footsteps on the farmhouse steps alerted him that they weren’t alone. The other Burke pack members gathered behind Urien. Raphael turned and looked at their faces. They resembled a crowd eager for a spectacle, anticipation shining on their round, pale faces.
Let’s get this show over with, he thought in revulsion.
“There,” he said, jerking a thumb toward a large boulder.
Raphael stretched out his hands and summoned the energy. Rock exploded into a shower of granite chips and loud gasps sounded behind him. He walked over to a fragment no bigger than a dime and tossed it at Urien.
“I trust that will suffice,” he said with sarcasm.
“You are the Kallan. The Destroyer. You are permitted to search for the texts as you wish.” Urien bowed his head slightly, but then his gaze was alert and watchful as he lifted it once more. Cunning. “I give you permission to search all our land. However, if you do not sacrifice Emily, you will violate the terms of the contract and forfeit your own brother’s life.”
A flash of grief and anger touched him. Raphael fisted his hands. “I won’t violate any terms by obtaining proof that Emily is the cursed one foretold to bring about the end to all our race. All our race, purebloods and mixed. Know this, Urien. I will do what I must, but I will have the proof I need. I will not take an innocent’s life.”
As he started to leave them, he heard someone whisper, “This Kallan is not like the purebloods of old. He has much more destructive, dark power. He is the Destroyer.”
No emotion showed on his face as he whirled around and went toward his cabin, but inside, his stomach churned the contents of his last meal.
Emily spent much of the morning sitting by her father’s gravestone, searching within herself for answers.
“Papa, I wish you could hear me,” she whispered to the cold gravestone. “I’m no coward, but I’m scared and don’t know what to do anymore. If it’s best that I die