Prince of Cats - Tasha Black Page 0,34
haymaker after that, but telegraphed it enough that Killian was able to slip under the blow.
He shifted as he ducked, letting his animal form take control. He landed softly on clever paws, and turned to leap back at his attacker before any of the other guards had time to react.
His lynx senses kicked in, and he could smell the acrid sweat beading under the man’s armpits as he realized he was outmatched.
He could hear the soft breathing of his babe and he instinctively placed his body between the child and the villain.
The man with the eyepatch glanced over at Wynter, who had retreated onto the balcony, and then back at the baby.
Surely, he would not try to fight a giant lynx to hurt an innocent child.
But Killian read the determination in the man’s face before he ever moved a muscle.
As the rest of the guards realized what was going on and began to step forward, the fool in the eyepatch moved for the baby again.
Killian’s muscles coiled beneath his fur. He flew through the air, claws unsheathed, and landed on the man’s chest. They hit the stone floor with a sickening crunch that told Killian the man had at least one broken bone.
The air filled with the man’s horrible screams.
Killian growled low in his ear and he quieted.
The man inside the lynx battled for control.
Don’t kill him, he begged the beast. We have to find out who sent him. We have to know who wants to hurt the babe.
The lynx relented and Killian stood into his man form, leaving one foot on the would-be assassin’s chest.
A flash of blue light caught his attention.
On the balcony, Wynter’s eyes shone madly. She held a ball of writhing blue fire in one hand and clutched that hideous amulet she’d recently begun wearing in the other.
Before his eyes, the fire took shape, splitting into round parts, sliding out into a canine form.
The familiar scent of brimstone filled the air.
“You,” Killian breathed, stepping onto the balcony with her. “You sent the men and the hellhound after us.”
“Yes, I did,” Wynter said without taking her eyes off the fiery transformation happening in the air before her hands. “That’s not my baby. And besides, we both know that war is the only solution to our problems.”
“You want a war?” Killian asked, unable to fathom her reasoning. “But what about the prophecy? You were supposed to bring peace to our kingdoms.”
Wynter only laughed.
“Prophecies are for fools,” she spat. “True leaders make their own destiny.”
The magic before her continued to grow as she spoke.
“The Winter Court needs a buffer against the encroaching Summer,” she said lightly. “Autumn will be cooled to the level of Winter to provide it. When I am finished, Autumn will cease to exist, in all its forms, in order to ensure the survival of Winter.”
“You want to eliminate an entire season?” Killian asked wonderingly. “That’s ludicrous.”
“When word gets out that an Autumn guard murdered our heir, then we will have war, whether you want it or not,” Wynter continued. “My people will not tolerate it.”
“But no one will ever believe you,” Killian said. “Maybe if your man had been successful, but there are a dozen witnesses here.”
“Someone would have to survive this for word to get out,” she said with a wry smile.
The hellhound was almost complete, it hovered an inch from the ground as Killian looked on.
“Seize her,” Killian shouted.
Immediately, the rest of his guards sprang into action.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Wynter laughed.
The first guard ran for her as the hellhound landed on blue fire paws that turned to solid flesh the instant they touched the stones.
It roared at the guard, and a billow of its wintry breath surrounded the guard like a cloud, freezing him in place.
Killian thought hellhounds dealt in fire, but it made sense, coming from one of Wynter’s creations. She perverted everything she touched. Even in the heat of battle, part of him couldn’t help but feel relived at the fact that at least now she wouldn’t have any part in raising his son.
The beast turned to Killian next.
He prepared his body to shift, but he was frozen before he could even begin the change.
The beast leapt forward, scattering the approaching guards.
“The baby, you stupid mutt, kill the baby,” Wynter hissed. She lifted the talisman over her head to remind the creature who was in control.
Killian begged his body to obey him. He could not watch her kill his child. He would not.
But he was powerless.
Something whistled through the