Page 82 of On Broken Bonds

The last thing I see clearly is Nyx climbing back onto Thorian's back, one hand pressed against her bruised cheek while her wide eyes lock onto mine.

Then the world shatters. And the beast takes over.

Her voice sounds distant. Very distant. I hear fabric ripping. Bones shifting. And the last coherent thought I have is that she needs to get across the swamp. No matter what happens to me. She needs to get across.

I barely register the splash of the water against my thighs, barely register the weak pull of the magic against my skin. But it doesn’t meet the same porous, soft outside of the knights. This time, it finds me. Thick. Strong. Impervious.

Coherent thoughts fade away. A red sheen covers the world. My heart pounds in my ears, and then I’m someone else. Something else.

The thing that hurt her is running.

Good.

Run.

Hunt.

Chase.

Kill.

She is mine.

I Leap from stone to stone. He’s fast. Faster than most prey. Faster than prey should be.

I roar and lunge after him. The swamp splashes around me. Black water surges against my legs. The strange draining magic reaches for me, but it feels distant. Unimportant. Like insects biting through fur.

There is only the chase.

Only the pounding of my feet.

Only the scent of prey.

The dark-haired male lands on another platform. Breathes.

Weak.

I swing.

Miss.

My hand crashes into the water instead, sending a wave rolling across the swamp.

Rage explodes through me.

I roar again.

The sound tears across the water.

Run faster.

Run harder.

Catch him.

Kill him.

Something screams nearby.