Page 16 of To Sway a Demon Heart

“Tyr!” I shouted, picking myself up and running after him. “What do you mean?”

“Someone has lost control of that creature,” he replied, pulling something from his jacket pocket and putting it to his lips. A vial of blood, I realized. “Shadows can be moved by the will of a caster, but none here have this kind of power. Scathanna barely had this kind of power. Not without blood magic animating the shadows.”

“What do you need me to do?” I asked, watching the blood red of the magic flash across Tyr’s eyes as he tried to take control of the beast.

“I need light,” he gritted out, bracing his feet in the dirt and holding out his hands toward the beast.

I obliged, igniting a ring of fire around the graveyard, illuminating the darkness and the combatants within in flashes and flickers of orange light. The shadow beast was being attacked by the contestants within the ring, some magic running amok as Tyr had said.

As if it sensed our invading magic, the beast turned its attention toward us, letting out an explosive roar as it lumbered toward us. I saw Draven and Shyama fall away, tossed aside like rag dolls as they tried to subdue the shadow beast that had turned its attention wholly on Tyr.

“Tyr,” I said, pushing more fire into the space to try to light up the beast and reveal the caster behind it. “Do you have this?”

“I need a minute,” he gritted out, clearly wrestling for control with the beast. He was mouthing words too swiftly to make them out, casting furiously as he tried to take control of the blood magic at work. The beast was nearing us, the ground shaking with each step of its shadowy form.

“You don’t have a minute!” I shouted, pulling my fire back to wrap around the beast. I cocooned it in flame, trapping it amidst the light where it couldn’t exist. “Now, Tyr!”

Tyr roared, and a pulse went out that seemed to shatter the night. He slumped to the ground, and the shadow beast bellowed one last time as I let my fire consume it.

I fell to my hands and knees, spent from the use of magic, Tyr panting beside me flat on his back.

“Brigid,” a voice called. It wasn’t Tyr’s voice, and his eyes were holding mine with something like awe and wonder. I didn’t look up as Draven knelt beside me. “Lady Brigid, are you alright?”

“We are fine,” Tyr groaned, rolling to his hands and knees and pushing himself up. “Thank you for your tender concern, Lord Draven. Please tell me who in the name of the gods was responsible for thatthing.”

“Not sure,” Draven said, still steadying me around my shoulders. My eyes were still locked on Tyr, and he raised a brow as Draven added, “Possibly one of the dead. Magic spun out of control.”

“That must be it,” Tyr agreed, offering me a hand as he rose. I took it, narrowing my eyes at the lie. What was he playing at? “How many are left?”

“Five of us,” Draven said, rising with us. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“She’s fine,” Tyr said possessively, pulling me to his side out of Draven’s arms. The Pull hummed happily at the contact, but I felt too dazed to really understand why. “Return to your rooms. The final trial will be at sunset tomorrow. You’re all to stay confined until then.”

Draven nodded, frowning as his father and the other nobles from Shadow appeared behind us, eager to see the carnage and the victors of the trial.

I didn’t hear anything they said or the terse words Tyr exchanged with the nobles as he guided me back to the tower. My body and mind were wholly focused on the arm of my mate around me as his scent and warmth finally engulfed me.

Chapter 10

“I’mtrulyfine,”Isaid for the fifth time as Tyr propelled me up the steps of the tower.

“Neither of us is fine,” Tyr replied patiently as he had already done several times. “Stop lying and let me help you.”

I remained silent as Tyr led me to my room, fumbling in his pocket for the key and unlocking the door one-handed while keeping his other arm firmly around me.

He said nothing as he guided me inside, locking the door behind us and turning me to face him. He looked down at me, his eyes somehow filled with both anxiety and resolution as he pursed his lips.

“I’m fi—”

My protest was cut off by Tyr’s mouth crashing into me, his tongue sliding against mine as he pulled me flush against him. I felt the Pull explode in me, begging me to get closer, to be nearer, to let this male have all of me.

The sensible, thinking portion of my brain interceded before animal instinct took over, and I pushed the Lord of Blood away.

“What are you doing?” I gasped, taking a step back and pressing my fingers to my lips. They were tender, and they wanted Tyr’s back on them with a desperate ache.

“I’m tired, Brigid,” Tyr growled, closing the distance between us again and putting his hands around my waist. “I’m tired of fighting the Pull and I’m tired of denying myself. It may damn me for eternity, but I’m tired of trying to be the better male.” He leaned down as if to kiss me again, and I put my hand against his mouth.

“Oh no you don’t,” I said, beating back the Pull, which was raging at me to stop arguing and just take what Tyr was offering. An ache was building in me, begging for release, but I stood firm. “You don’t get to reject me and deny me for months, and then suddenly change your mind because you’re tired. You have to do better than that.”