Page 43
Story: Prophecy of Gods and Crows
The silver wolf whined, and she gave it a scratch behind the ears before stepping forward and taking their extended hands in her own. To her shock, they pressed their thumbs into her flesh, breaking the skin, and blood beaded the surface.
The pain ignited as cold flooded her veins, her body freezing inside out. She tried to hold back the scream, more and more of her breath being stolen with each passing second of time as the puffs of visible air leaving her lungs grew smaller and smaller.
The silver wolf growled, snapping at them before Senan nipped at the wolf, making the wolf turn its annoyance on the horse.
Releasing her hands, the women stepped away from her, and she was able to catch her breath again.
Looking up at the two women, ready to curse them into oblivion, she froze as there was no longer two versions of herself lost in time, but where the crone had been a crow. Where the young version of her had stood was a wolf. It was the same wolf she had seen in her vision.
The one that killed Arioch.
Both animals were black as night and watching her with expectation, yet before she could make a move, the two animals became smoke and shadows, swirling around her as her eyes caught on Senan. The horse reared back giving an equine war cry that made Bryn’s eardrums bleed. Her silver wolf friend turned to shadow as well before it wrapped itself around her body.
The shadows moved faster until they closed in on her completely, and all she could see and breathe was smoke.
The darkness took her back into the opaque oblivion she had awoken from only moments ago.
Chapter 19
AsBrynattemptedtoopen her swollen eyes, she could see candlelight flickering on the wall of a room that was very much not her own.
Turning her head, Niamh sat in a chair next to the bed, déjà vu from only hours before.
“What... happened?” she asked, her throat feeling like someone had run sandpaper up and down it.Again.
“You keep passing out, and I will have sweaters for all of Ifreann knitted,” Niamh responded.
“Well, that would be useless in the desert.”
“Yes, so you are wasting my time with this nonsense. You took power from the stone by snorting it all up. Everyone else is out too aside from Travis and Caden, who were fit to be tied when you all hit the floor. Now Danu is proclaiming she did not intend for anyone to lose consciousness and went on about being separated for too long... Anyway, are you well enough to walk, darling?”
“That... was a lot,” Bryn replied, blinking slowly at Niamh.
“Yes, this is all tedious. We spend years in boredom, and you notch it up to ten in a week. Let’s get you to your feet so the old woman can settle her old bones.”
Niamh stepped forward to take her hands, but before Bryn’s sluggish mind could stop her, Niamh was pulling her to stand, only to release her just as quickly. Bryn fell back onto the bed, catching herself before she rolled off.
“Niamh!” she yelled, but Niamh was staring at her own hands before looking up at Bryn in shock. “What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” Niamh shoved her hands into her skirt pockets and turned to the door. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
Without another word, Bryn watched her friend all but run from the room, closing the door behind her with a slam.
Laughter cut into Bryn’s focus, and she turned.
The shadow man stood, leaning against the wall, his shadowy arms folded, but he was more of a man than he had been.
Scrambling to stand, wanting to be on an even playing field, she watched the man of shadows. He was still somewhat ghostly in his appearance, but she could see some of what he might have looked like if he’d ever been alive.
Tall, lean muscles, black hair that fell into his face. His eyes were light, but she couldn’t tell if it was a light blue or the silver she’d seen in his shadow form from where they stood. His black shirt sleeves were rolled up, showing similar blue tattoos on his arms that she’d seen on her own in her dream. There were more across the top of his chest and some on his neck as well.
Raising one black eyebrow at her, he smirked.
“What the hell are you?” she growled, not liking the predatory way he looked at her.
“Who. It’s offensive to refer to me as a what.” His voice was deep, smooth, and oh so very arrogant.
“Whothe hell are you then?” she demanded.
Table of Contents
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