Page 126 of Full Moon
Easton barely makes it three steps from the car before he erupts into flames so hot the grass beneath him turns to ash instantly. But something's wrong—his wings are crumpled, useless, and he's flopping on the ground like a fish pulled from water, burning everything in his path but unable to control the inferno consuming him. He's screaming through the bond, wordless agony that tears through my skull.
Torben's door explodes off its hinges as his bear takes control—not a smooth shift but a violentrupture, fur and muscle bursting through human skin. A massive brown blur crashes to the ground, immediately stumbling, disoriented, shaking its enormous head like it's trying to dislodge something from its brain.
Shit. Shit shit shit?—
I'm still locked in place, muscles rigid as stone as the magic intended for me—specificallyfor me—tightens its grip like a python around my chest. I can't breathe. I can't shift. I can't do anything but sit here anddiewhile my mates suffer around me.
NO.My dragon's roar tears from my throat, raw and furious andterrified—an emotion I haven't felt in centuries. The sound shatters what's left of the windows, sends birds screaming fromtrees a mile away.WE WILL NOT DIE IN A METAL BOX LIKE CATTLE.
I feel Khal's coils wrap around Feray and Torben, dragging them away from the car with desperate strength. Through the haze of agony, I see his massive serpentine head turn toward me, and the look in those ancient eyes—worry, helplessness,grief—tells me he thinks he's watching me die.
Maybe he is.
The pain is indescribable. No—it'sunimaginable. Every pop and crack of my bones feels like molten lava surging through my marrow, like someone is replacing my skeleton with white-hot iron one piece at a time. My spine arches so violently I hear vertebrae separate.
My dragon tears free with a sound that will haunt my nightmares for centuries—the wet, meatyrippingof a creature too large forcing itself through a space too small. The SUV doesn't just break apart; itdetonatesaround us, metal shrieking and groaning as it's shredded like wet paper by talons and scales and a body that should not exist in this dimension.
The back half of the car spins through the air and slams into the ground inches from Easton's thrashing form, close enough to ruffle his burning feathers.
I stagger on legs that don't remember how to work, then collapse. The ground trembles under my weight—under the weight of a form I can barely control, barelyinhabit. My vision swims in and out, colors bleeding together, sounds warping into meaningless noise.
This was meant for me.
The thought comes slow, sluggish, fighting through the poison that's turning my brain to sludge.They didn't want to kill Feray. They wanted to kill ME. Kill the bond. Leave her defenseless.
Leave her alone.
The last thing I see—the very last image before consciousness abandons me—is Feray's wolf launching out of Khal's coils like a white arrow fired from a bow. Her mouth opens wide, wider than should be possible, and she unleashes a cone of frost so intense I feel the temperature drop forty degrees in an instant. Ice crystals form on my scales. The poison in my blood actuallyslowsfor one blessed moment.
She's not aiming at me. She's aiming at somethingbehindme.
Her paws land on my head—four points of pressure that feel like anchors to reality—and she uses me as a springboard to leap at whatever nightmare is approaching from my blind side. I hear the impact of bodies colliding, hear the crunch of bones and the wet tear of flesh, hear my mate's snarl of pure, primalrage— And then the world fades to black.
The only sensation left is the fleeting brush of her paws leaving my scales, the phantom warmth of her presence, and the desperate prayer that she survives whatever I couldn't protect her from.
Please,I beg whatever gods might be listening.Not her. Take me. Take everything. Just not her.Darkness claims me before I can hear if anyone answers.
I have no clue how long I was out, but everything hurts.
As ridiculous as it sounds, even my hair aches.
One thing is certain—I'm incredibly warm, lying on something soft that cradles my aching body. I struggle to regain control, fighting through the fog of pain and exhaustion. My eyelids feel weighted with lead, but I manage to blink several times before they finally open.
Snow-white fur fills my vision, and my heart clenches in relief. Feray. She's curled protectively around me, her massive form a comforting presence. Her head rests gently on my legs, and I'm nestled in the hollow before her hind legs, just behind her ribs. My head lies against her side, my face angled toward hers. The steady rise and fall of her breathing grounds me.
"There's Sleeping Beauty." Khal's voice cuts through the haze. He's crouched beside me, his expression a mix of relief and concern. "You gave us a bit of a scare."
Feray lifts her head, those ice-blue eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my chest tighten.
"The wendigo that attacked Feray's parents came for us," Torben says, his voice heavy with regret. "We think you were the target. It was a paralytic specifically for dragons." The implications hit me like a punch to the gut.
"If they kill you, they kill her," Torben adds. He doesn't look in our direction, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.
Khal offers me a bottle of water, and I take it gratefully, my hand trembling as I unscrew the cap and sip slowly. The cool liquid soothes my parched throat, but it does little to ease the gnawing fear. "So, other than the car being destroyed, what else happened?"
Easton's expression darkens. "Feray killed the wendigo by herself." His tone is tight with restrained fury. "She ripped thebeing out of its chest, then snapped its head off its shoulders. The husk fell."
The air thickens around us. My mind races, trying to process it all, but the only thing I can focus on is the rage in Easton's voice. He's furious that he wasn't able to protect her, that he wasn't there to help when she needed it most. I reach out, my fingers brushing against her fur, needing the connection to reassure myself that she's really here. I stare at the scar that runs down her face, the way it almost glows as an angry red line against the white of her fur.
