Sorceress Awakening Read Free Page B

warm, wet tongue brushed her cheek as she
collapsed forward against his warmth.

Chapter
3
    Stone no longer, he answered his lady’s
call. The dark world came alive around him as his senses awoke one by one. The
thump of many hearts hummed in his ears. One fluttered rapid and weaker than
the rest, on the edge of death. He inhaled a deep breath and three things
became apparent.
    Air tainted with blood and death-scent
filled his lungs.
    A warm weight slumped across his lap.
    Blood covered him in a sticky coating.
    He opened his eyes for the first time in
many years as his mind slowly sorted order from the chaos of his senses. A
woman lay sprawled across his lap. Surprise melted away, replaced by cold dread
as his soul recognized her.
    She lay still, her pale skin gray-tinted. A
sheen of sweat covered her face. The only color was the bright splash of her
blood.
    His lady’s blood. Horror clamped his
stomach and unleashed a churning void in his middle. He dragged in another
great lungful of air, the lingering scent of her desperation and fear strong on
the back of his tongue. Blood and burning fury rushed through his veins with
each beat of his heart. Pointing his muzzle at the nearest enemy, he roared.
But it didn’t expel all the hate and helpless rage trapped within. Again and
again, he howled out his agony until it echoed across the width of the glade in
a deafening wave.
    Rage destroyed reason. Muscles tensed for
battle as talons sprang from his fingertips. He gathered his lady into his arms
and fed her power while he straightened from his crouch to face his enemies. At
the sight of them cowering away, another low rumble built within him. His lips
curled back from his teeth, the need to rend and destroy overwhelming.
    The invaders fell back as they retreated to
a safer distance. By the scents which permeated the meadow, his enemies were a
mix of fae-bloods. A breeze picked up and blew the weakening essence of evil to
his nostrils.
    Silent now, he curved his wings around his
shoulders and cupped the escaping scent closer to him. He’d nearly missed it:
the corruption of a demon-touched corpse. A Riven.
    One of his lady’s attackers knew what he
was, and the Riven had run to save itself. He lowered his lady to the ground
with gentle care as he whispered spells to staunch the flow of blood. While he
unfurled his wings, he gathered power. Using his soul-link to the Spirit Realm,
he tapped into the torrent of creative magic.
    The cold power from the Spirit Realm mixed
with the warm air of the Mortal Realm, creating lift. Magic whirled around him
like gale winds before a thunderstorm.
    A fae-blood shapeshifter with a gaping hole
in her stomach growled and started to back away from him while three of her
comrades advanced. By her unmistakable wolf-musk scent, she was dire wolf. With
the flick of his tail, he decapitated the female. Before her body toppled to
the ground, he was moving.
    He swept out a talon-tipped hand, ripping
out the throat of one of the males and then gutted a third with a kick from his
hind legs. He pushed the body over backwards, and lunged at the next creature
within reach: a silver-skinned female with pointed ears. A snapped neck freed
her soul from the anchor of her body.
    He was winning, but there were too many to
fight his way free, and half his attention was trained on his lady. She was
losing her battle to live. Why was her magic not healing her as it should?
    Another dire wolf female darted at him. His
tail snaked up and speared her in the throat. He didn’t have time for a
prolonged battle. This needed to end, now. He directed his magic at the
encircling horde. Threads of power condensed in the air and the silvery wisps
latched onto any warm-blooded creature near enough to touch. The scent of
burning flesh filled the air and the screams of his enemies echoed in his ears.
    Seeing he had devastated half their
comrades, the other creatures vanished into the shadows of a surrounding maze.
He curled