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"And his tail."

"It served little purpose without balance."

I couldn't help it. I threw my arms around him. "You are incredible."

He stiffened. Not nearly as much as he would've two days ago. His arms even twitched... as though they almost returned the embrace. Almost.

"I merely avoided touching the eye socket."

I laughed into his chest. "You like him."

"I do not."

"You healed him."

"I preferred that to applying ointment."

"You like him."

"I preferred efficiency."

"You like him."

"I preferred..." He stopped. "...not touching a cat."

I looked up at him. "You totally like him."

"For Hell's sake, woman."

Suddenly, the floor lurched beneath us. A low rumble rolled through the cottage. The teacups rattled in the cupboard. The hanging lamp swayed overhead. I stumbled forward and Azaren caught me before I hit the floor.

His head snapped toward Screaming Woods. "No."

The word came out almost as a growl. Outside... the trees shivered though there was no wind. Another deep tremor rolled beneath our feet.

"What was that?"

Azaren's face had gone completely still. "Damnation."

"What?"

"I used infernal magic." Understanding dawned in his eyes. "It fed."

My smile vanished. "What fed?"

His jaw tightened. "Whatever is beneath Screaming Woods."

Another rumble shook the windows. Somewhere in the distance... something answered. Not with a roar. Not with a scream. With a long... lonely... cry.

The second tremor struck harder than the first. Glass rattled in the windows. The lamp above the kitchen table swung violently enough to throw shadows across the wall. Poppy stumbled and cried out. I caught her.

"No." Anger surged through me, I stared toward the dark windows. Toward the woods. Toward the thing beneath them. It had taken my magic. My magic. Not borrowed it. Not absorbed the lingering traces left behind after a spell. It had reached through the weakening veil and fed directly from me.

From an infernal hunter.

Rage rose so quickly the room darkened around me. The fire in the hearth flared crimson. Heat rolled beneath my skin, ancient and vicious, begging to be released. No creature touched what was mine. No creature fed from me. And no creature threatened… my gaze shifted to Poppy.

She stood barefoot in the center of the kitchen, her hair mussed from where it had rested against my chest. Her face had gone pale, but she wasn't looking at the trees. She was watching me. Trusting me. That only made the fury worse.