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not with Darius? What would Zale do to her if Tynan continued to fight? He would do
anything to keep her safe. Even if that included giving up his own life.
Human shouts of pleasure and triumph echoed from the shape shifters as Tynan threw
his down weapon. Rough hands grabbed at him, ripping the cut in his shoulder wide open.
He clamped his jaw shut against the pain. They threw him up onto the stage at Moon s feet.
He pulled himself up to his full height and looked down at Zale by a few inches. Pure
hate coursed through his veins.
Get your goddamn hands off her, he ordered.
Zale smirked and lowered his head to lick the wounds across her neck. Rage beat in
Tynan's head and he wanted to rip the man apart with his bare hands. Zale whispered
something against Moon s ear. Her eyes widened in fear before he shoved her way. She slid
across the floor toward the back of the stage.
His first instinct was to go to her. But at least back there, she would be out of harm's
way. He kept his gaze locked on Zale s and growled at him, baring his teeth.
Zale laughed and stepped toward him. There was once a time when he looked up to the
man, adored him and even loved him. Now what he felt for him was beyond the deepest
hate; he loathed him.
Zale raised the knife, covered in Moon s blood and ripped open Tynan s shirt. Tynan
tensed as the silver touched his skin, tracing the tattoos across his chest. He flinched as Zale
made small nicks across his skin. Zale walked around him, all the while whispering strange
ancient words.
Tynan stood rigid, his muscles straining to the point of pain. Zale slid the knife over his
wounded shoulder and over his back. His shoulder blades itched, awaiting the expected
knife to rip through his flesh. The knife nicked him a few more times, warm blood dripping
down his body and trickling off the blade.
Droplets splashed to the ground in a circular formation. Zale turned and faced him
again, an evil grin across his face.
97
The minute the last drop of blood fell to the floor, Tynan screamed out in agony as pain
suffused his body. The muscles through his body elongated then stretched to near breaking
point. He stiffened and tried to force himself to lunge at Zale. Pure rage suffused him. He
was unable to move.
Zale laughed. Weren t expecting that, were you. Paralysis is a common feature of
ritualistic magic. We couldn t have you fighting back, could we? Zale leaned in closer until
his hot fetid breath hit Tynan s face. How does it feel to be helpless, you son of a bitch?
That s how I felt when your sword ran my wife through. And now, I m finally going to
make you pay.
Defenseless, he watched Zale raise the knife, unable to scream as the blade cut across
his chest, through the old wounds, to the open gash in his shoulder, sliding it in to probe the
wound. Raw pain burned through his body and blackness consumed the edges of his brain.
His blood coated the silver knife to the hilt.
Zale turned his back to him and walked in a circle, allowing the blood to drip onto the
wooden stage. A deafening roar sounded out from the club. All the lycanthropes sliced at
the venators to spill blood, not to kill, only to maim. Tynan cursed and called out with his
mind to his fellow venators. He tried to force his muscles to move, to resist, but to no avail.
Zale whispered the ancient words of the ritual, faster and faster. A whirl of energy
rippled through the air, feeding the adrenaline pounding through the club.
Horrified, Tynan stared at the circle of blood. An outline of the woman who nurtured
and cared for him after his initiation, the woman he d accidentally killed, started to
materialize. The rhythm of the ritual beat faster, more frantic. Matilde appeared transparent,
hazy, and as the frenzy reached its crescendo, her form solidified.
Zale smiled, walking around his wife, reaching out for her, but unable to touch her. He
turned and strode back to Tynan. He smiled, but hatred penetrated his eyes.
I sired you and loved you like a son, until you took from me the only woman I ever
loved. A flittering of regret crossed his face. It didn t have to be this way, but you took
her, and now it s your duty to bring her back to me. I ve already killed one son. Say hello to
your brother for me.
He raised the knife and Tynan fought against the defenselessness, unable to move, and
braced himself. He waited for death, and then he heard Moon scream as she rushed at Zale,
launching herself at his arm holding the knife to Tynan s chest.
Zale reached out and slashed her face, across the bridge of her nose and into those
beautiful blue eyes. She shouted in guttural pain and fell to the floor clutching at her face.
Tynan screamed in horror, the sound the only thing filling his head. He could only look at
her, his eyes only able to focus on the edge of her cowering form.
In his peripheral sight, he saw Zale raise the knife, preparing to kill him. Still, he
couldn t tear his eyes from Moon. He was about to die and the only regret was that he
couldn t protect his beautiful Moon. The thought of what Zale would do to her when he was
dead filled him with livid rage. He tried to force himself to move, to protect her. As she had
tried to protect him.
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A new pain landed against his bare back as sharp claws speared into his tender flesh.
The tremendous power in those paws propelled him downward. He toppled to the ground,
breaking the plane of the circle as Zale s knife embedding itself deep within his shoulder.
He lay there for a moment, still unable to move. The pain finally threatened to blacken
the edges of his mind, the knife buried to the hilt in the open wound through his shoulder.
In a flash of fur, a huge grey and white Husky bounded over him and launched itself at
Zale.
Zale bellowed.
The spell broken, Tynan was finally able to move. He rolled to his feet, the blood on the
floor around him smearing outward, hitting the form of Matilde. A high pitched, blood-
curdling scream echoed from inside the circle of blood. The form of Matilde blackened, her
flesh searing from the bone. Her eyes ran red with dark blood. She faded away, clawing at
the air in a final attempt at not being dragged back to the fires of damnation.
Tynan headed toward Zale, revenge blinding him to everything else around him. The
dog tore at Zale, sharp fangs barely missing his jugular. Zale threw off the beast and
reached for a Sarasin sword held by an Arabian venator next to him and growled as it sliced
his hand. He twirled the sword and slashed at the Husky.
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