KOL’S HOURS WERE a blur of tree trunks, a pale sky that grew dark and star pocked before slowly giving way to dawn, and the torment that poured out of the collar and made him feel like every part of him was an inferno of unendurable pain.
The girl’s voice was a lifeline that sometimes broke through the terrible whispers of his collar, but the longer he stayed away from her, the harder it was to hear her.
By the time the sun rose on the day after he’d left her behind, her voice was gone, and he was alone with the whispers. The pain. And the vicious beat of his dragon’s heart.
He had to go after her.
He couldn’t.
He had to rip her heart from her chest.
He wouldn’t.
He wouldn’t, but it was impossible to remember why.
Near midday, he stumbled, going down hard on his knees as the distance between him and the girl became liquid fire in his veins.
He was going to die.
No, she was going to die.
He wasn’t a killer.
He was nothing but what his queen had made him to be.
The rage pumping through his chest collided with the power that surged out of the collar and became an unending stream of torment. Every breath he took was a razor in his lungs. Every move away from the girl was a knife that flayed him from the inside out.
He clutched his head in his hands and screamed until he was hoarse.
He had to go back. He had to. He was fire, blood, and death, and the girl’s heart was his salvation.
Salvation.
His tortured thoughts grabbed on to the word.
He was a predator, and she was his prey. Once he held her heart in his hand, he’d be saved.
He looked up. Ahead of him, the cold, clear expanse of a lake separated him from the vast reaches of the eastern Falkrains. Beyond the mountains, something beckoned him. Something like home, if he’d ever had one.
If he ran, he could be in the eastern Falkrains by nightfall.
If he ran from his prey, the pain would tear him to pieces.
Kol dug his fingers into the ground beneath him, and closed his eyes. Fought to ignore the pounding of his heart and the whispers of the collar.
He would not be a monster.
He already was.
He was a monster, and nothing would change until he took his prey’s heart.
The collar’s whispers skittered through his mind, and red-hot pain poured into his veins, obliterating everything but a vicious need to hunt.
To kill.
To finally be free of this torment.
He threw his head back and roared, and the whispers became screams echoing inside his head.
He was fire, blood, and death.
And the girl was going to die.
He found her as the sun reached its midpoint in the sky. She was almost out of the mountains, almost to the open ground that led down toward the rushing river that separated the mountains from the forest that stretched between the north and his queen’s castle. The man was with her, but his blade was sheathed. The bird was hovering, and the whispers in Kol’s mind scraped until he was raw.
Identify the biggest threat.
Kill it first.
Kill them all.
The man’s weapon was a threat, but the man couldn’t run.
The bird was faster, but its beak and talons would do little but slow Kol down.
It couldn’t stop him.
Nothing could.
He was a monster, and he’d come for his salvation.
The girl froze in the act of building a fire and looked at the trees around her. Kol?
His lip curled, and his muscles tensed.
Where are you? I know you’re close. I can hear your thoughts.
Hunt . . . you. The words surfaced from the wreckage of his mind, and he curled his hands into fists. Break . . . you.
You don’t want to do that. She looked confident.
Yes. He did. It was all he wanted. All he craved with every vicious heartbeat.
“He’s back,” she said as she slowly climbed to her feet. “And he’s worse.”
Gabril grabbed his sword as he lunged to his feet.
Hunt. Kol’s voice was barely human. Kill.
I can help you. The girl’s voice was calm. No one has to die.
The collar exploded into a frenzy of blistering pain, and he rose from his hiding place to lock eyes with his prey.
“He’s coming.” The girl glanced at Gabril. “Don’t try to stop him. He’ll kill you. He’s lost control.”
“Lorelai—”
“I never questioned your training methods, because you were the expert. Don’t question me about magic.” The girl lifted her bare hands, palms facing toward Kol. His heart thundered at the sight of her unprotected chest.
Her heart was his for the taking.
His pain was almost over.
“Point your sword toward the ground, take a few steps away from me, and try not to look like a threat,” she said to Gabril. Then she gave the bird a stern look, and it shrieked at Kol as it settled into a nearby tree, its black eyes focused on him.
The man took a step back, pointed his sword toward the ground, and looked like an attack dog about to come off his leash as Kol exploded out of the trees and came for the girl.
Prey. He snarled.
Come to me, she said as she lifted her hands.
Kill you.
Come.
Her voice was a balm against the searing pain in his mind, and he shuddered to a stop, his breath heaving, his body shaking. The collar whispered, murmured, screamed. The pain scoured his body until he was nothing but fire.
Blood.
Death.
He clenched his fists around the collar and tore at it, but it didn’t budge.
“Don’t touch that collar,” the man breathed. “Irina’s magic is in there, and it might be a trap.”
The girl nodded without taking her eyes from Kol’s.
Kol released the collar and closed his eyes as her scent reached him. Evergreens. Snow. Sweet burning wood.
He was fire. His chest burned with every breath, and only the girl’s heart would make it better.
Come to me, she said again, and his eyes flew open.
He snarled as he lunged for her, dragon talons extending from his fingertips.
She waited until he was almost upon her, and then dove beneath his outstretched arms, crashing into his knees and bringing him to the ground. He kicked out and whipped his body toward her. She elbowed him in the jaw, knocking him back. His talons scraped her shoulder.
He scrambled to get his feet beneath him again, and she leaped on top of him, her bare hands pressing into his chest and sending a bolt of magic straight through his dragon heart.
He threw her off him, sending her spinning into the underbrush. With a snarl of rage, he crawled after her, his heart screaming for her blood, the collar whispering until he could hear nothing else.
She watched him come for her, her hands raised as if to stop him. Foolish prey. He pulled himself into a crouch and leaped. Her bare hands slammed against his chest as he pinned her to the ground, and the brilliant heat of her magic arrowed into him.
He threw back his head, the cords of his neck standing out, his chest laboring with every breath as she sent her magic through him, cutting him off from the rage that lived in the empty space where his human heart had been and softening the messages of pain his body kept sending.
Help me. His voice, broken and raw, rose above the collar’s whispers. He looked at her face and found fierce compassion in her eyes, resolute determination in the set of her mouth.
I am. Her thoughts spun quickly, almost too fast for him to follow. She was thinking of magic, of remedies, of how much pain she could take from him without Irina realizing she’d lost her huntsman.
Grab the tree beside us. I don’t want to cause more damage to the land, but we don’t have a choice. She jerked her chin toward the sickly looking maple. Hold on to it with both hands, and whatever you do, don’t let go until I’m finished.
He didn’t question her. Slowly, he climbed off her. She moved with him, keeping her hands against his skin. He turned, dug his now talonless fingers into the bark, and braced himself.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Nakhgor. Find his pain. Ja`dat. Send it into the tree instead.”
Her magic flared, his dragon heart pounded, and the collar was a band of agony.
“Nakhgor. Ja`dat.” Her voice rose as the magic surged through her and into him, rushing like a river that refused to be stopped. His dragon heart fought her, but Kol himself wanted to be saved, and the part of him that still survived bowed to the strength of her magic.
The brilliant light flowed through him, gathered the worst of his torment and sent it through his hands and into the maple.
Kol cried out as the tree shivered.
Power was an all-encompassing flood of light inside the girl, and it spilled over from her thoughts to his. It was pain and pleasure—freedom and a chain that bound her to an onslaught of weariness she couldn’t stop if she tried.
He felt her struggle to push the weariness back. To do one last thing for him. Concentrating the last of her energy, she pushed her magic toward the thick gray shroud that kept him from his memories. Her voice trembled with power as she yelled, “Nakhgor. Ja`dat.”
The shroud tore. The maple split in two with a tremendous crack. Kol’s memories came flooding back, and with it the restraint he needed to gain control of his dragon heart.
The girl gave him a crooked little smile before she slumped toward the ground.
Gabril called out a warning, but Kol had already wrapped his arms around her. Already pulled her against his chest so that she wouldn’t fall.
His mind was free from torment. The collar’s whispers were muted, its pain a dull ache.
She’d saved him. Again.
He tried to say, “Thank you,” but her eyes fluttered shut, and she slept.