Page 49 of The Wolf and the Chimera (The Witch and the Cowboy #3)

Elle

As my blood glowed and congealed with Medea’s, her teeth flashed in the darkness. Though I had been the one to arrange this deal—I had bartered for my freedom—her wild grin sank my stomach.

What have I done?

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, pet,” the sorceress purred.

Without warning, Medea flung me out of her mind. Though I wasn’t in a corporeal body, light blinded my vision, and pain erupted across my skin and down to my very bones.

Instinctively, I blinked against the unbearable brightness. Something beeped incessantly, and someone near me gasped. A deadly growl sounded from the corner of the room.

As my vision cleared, I realized Medea hadn’t just thrown me out of her mind.

She had tossed me into consciousness.

In an instant, I recognized the small, sterile room, and the shocked she-wolf who stood beside me. It was the same place Lyall had put me in the last time he had stolen my power under the guise of controlling the sorceress, and I remembered the she-wolf's slick bun and white coat.

Beside a frosted glass door was a metal countertop.

On it, the needle embedded under my skin led to a tube glowing with magic, which flowed into an obsidian container.

Other drugs and medical equipment covered its shining surface.

Another needle and tube connected to an IV bag of foul-smelling chemicals.

At the foot of my bed, the Sovereign stared at me in utter shock. I reached for my power, but no magic burned in my veins. Even my chimera was tired.

As Lyall’s shock transformed into rage, the werewolf at my side cringed. She too was the same female who’d drained me before. I recognized her dark, slick bun and pristine white coat.

“Knock her out!” Lyall commanded. “Knock her back out!”

The woman twisted toward the metal countertop behind her, reaching for a vial of clear, foul-smelling liquid. A needle and syringe laid beside it.

No.

No, I would not be made helpless again.

As I surged upright and wrenched the needles out of my arm, something sharp pinched my sternum, and Kalli’s voice echoed in my mind.

The bodice is my favorite part.

Rallying what was left of my strength, I summoned claws and tore into the soft fabric of the dress. Sewn in between the corset boning was a small dagger. My chimera recognized its scent.

Silver.

Lyall dove for me, and I wrenched the dagger free from the holster within the dress and swiped the weapon wildly. As I sliced across his chest, Lyall hissed and pivoted. Hope flared, and I rose to my feet, kicking at the heavy skirts of my gown to do so.

Still suffering from the effects of being drained, I swayed but did not lower the dagger I pointed at Lyall. The she-wolf darted away from me. Lyall’s shoulders shook with sobs. He faced me again—

And laughed.

Even the she-wolf balked at the thin, red line across Lyall’s chest. Silver didn’t cut werewolves, it burned them. The element was their greatest weakness. My father had called it one of nature’s greatest limitations.

Wolves didn’t heal from silver, yet with sickening quickness, Lyall’s flesh knitted itself back together.

Though she clearly worked in his demented lab,horror marred the she-wolf’s pretty, tan face.

“How?” she whispered.

She brought her shaking hand to her open mouth. Lyall fixed his glacial eyes on her.

“Get the twins,” he ordered with deadly quiet. “Tell them to prepare for transport.”

The she-wolf didn’t hesitate to flee the room. Lyall studied me as if he could discern what hid beneath my flesh and bone. As his covetous gaze slithered across my skin, I struggled to keep my hands from shaking. My grip on the silver dagger was sweaty.

“Ask it,” he said. “Ask how I became more.”

I swallowed but did not stand down. I didn’t ask his stupid question out of fear my voice would shake. Deathly quick, Lyall lunged and shoved the bed against the far wall with a crack. I lurched away from him, and he grinned.

“Feeling shy?” he asked. “That’s okay, my sweet Elle. I’ll show you.”

Without taking his eyes off me, Lyall reached behind him and grabbed the tube still glowing with my power. He popped it free from the container, and the silver flap lining it automatically closed. Confused and stricken by my growing dread, I watched as he lifted the tube of magic and—

And drank the golden light within.

His skin took on an unnatural glow, and his eyes shone, like sunlight upon harsh ocean waves. The light brown scar of his wound flared with light and vanished entirely.

Out of all the terrible things I had witnessed, I had never seen anything so grotesque. Beneath my panic, however, I felt like a fool. If Lyall had injected the twins with my power, of course, he would’ve taken some for himself.

Judging by the speed with which he healed, he had taken even more.

Faster than anyone should be able to move—fast as light—he lunged for me. I blocked him with the dagger, but where it nicked his skin, his flesh knitted itself back together. Lyall laughed like a madman.

“Silver only harms wolves,” he chided, “and thanks to you, I am no longer a mere wolf.”

Dominance and magic— my magic— rolled off him in waves. With those deadly claws, he swiped for me. Though he drew blood, he didn’t go for the kill shot.

He was toying with me.

Instinct and training guided my movements, but the thick skirts of my gown restricted my speed. I wanted to cut the damned things off, but Lyall attacked with unfettered swiftness.

My chimera was with me, looking over my shoulder and urging me to move, as punches, kicks, and swipes of his claws came at me with dizzying force.

I blocked and avoided some of his blows, but many— too many—landed.

With one brutal jab to my wrist, Lyall knocked the dagger out of my hand.

The weapon clattered against the far wall, and I lunged for it.

Lyall intercepted me and knocked me against the bed.

As I righted myself, his gaze shot to the obsidian container behind him.

With his focus still on the container of my power, he crouched, not to attack but…

To defend.

An idea sparked to life.

I needed to knock him off-guard, but I had only trained in combat for a few months. I was no match for the Sovereign.

Words, however, had always been my weapon of choice.

“Does it make you feel good,” I asked, “to have to use my magic to beat me?”

He growled. “Does it feel good being on a monster’s leash?”

He slashed my ribs, then my arm. Adrenaline pumping in my veins, I hardly registered the pain.

“I don’t know,” I countered. “Why don’t you ask your pack?”

I blocked the blow Lyall aimed for my sternum, but he landed a brutal kick to my thigh.

This godsdamned dress.

“Everything I do,” he spat, “is for my pack, for my people, for my family.”

“Really?” I asked. “You hurt Kalli for her sake?”

Throwing the most terrible thing he had done in his face snapped the final tethers on his control. He reared back and launched himself at me.

It was the sloppy, poorly concealed attack that I had been pushing for.

I dodged him, lurched across the room, and picked up the obsidian container of pure, unadulterated power. As I held it above my head, Lyall’s blue eyes grew impossibly round, and the sharp scent of his fear filled my nostrils.

“You drank a few drops of my magic,” I said, “and became almost wild with power.”

I took a step closer, and Lyall flinched. I raised the container even higher. My arms shook, and Lyall’s gaze shot to me, then darted back to what I held.

“What would a whole container of it do,” I asked, “without any wielder to control it?”

My dizziness worsened, and I fought to keep upright. I couldn’t let Lyall detect any weakness.

"It would destroy the entire chateau," Lyall said and swallowed, "which is why you won't unleash it—not with your bastard mate still on the loose. Every second that passes undoubtedly draws him closer to you.”

My heart panged, but I didn’t falter. If Lyall sensed the slightest waver in my threat, he would be on me. His eyes were wild with stolen power. If he shoved those damn needles under my skin again, I doubted his loyalty to Cordelia would outweigh his desire for more magic.

Lyall would drain not only my power, but also my life.

I couldn’t let him know I was only stalling until my mate and my friends arrived. In my bones, in the depths of my soul, I knew Ryder would come for me. Despite Bo’s betrayal, my heart told me that Kieran and Melanie would too.

Pack sticks together.

My friends were coming for me. I only had to hold out until they arrived.

My vision darkened at the corners, and I wondered just how close to death Lyall had brought me.

“The bronze inlaid in the container’s interior is what’s making you so dizzy,” Lyall explained. I struggled to comprehend his words, but the fear in his eyes was easy to read. “Silver is the weakness of the wolves—or was—and bronze is the weakness of the chimeras.”

Spots danced in my vision, and the container grew heavier and heavier in my arms. Lyall took a step closer, and I retreated. The container slipped in my fingers, but I caught it.

Barely.

Lyall sucked in a breath.

“Don’t push me,” I warned.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he countered. “Put it down . Before the bronze makes you lose control entirely, put it down.”

I ignored him.

My grip on the container, shaky as it was, was all that stood between me and death or Entombment.

I let Lyall see the wild desperation of a caged animal within me. I let him see just what he and the High Witch and the sorceress had planted in my heart. Though my arms trembled, I raised the container even higher.

“Maybe I will put it down, ” I threatened. “Maybe I’ll drop it before my mate reaches us.”