much better if they could rescue Dimitri without being detected.
If their plan worked, she would take the information Mother Earth provided on the Lycans, their strengths, weaknesses and habits, their nature and the very characteristics unique to them, and she would use those things against them.
Their last fail-safe depended on her. If they were wounded, or Dimitri was too weak, they needed that last safety zone. She would need to call on every ounce of her mage blood, of her connection to Mother Earth, of her Dragonseeker lineage, to provide a protection spell strong enough to allow anything human or Carpathian to enter, but hold all Lycans out. If she succeeded, they would have a place to run to, a place to defend if the Lycans attacked them. If not, they would all certainly die.
5
P ain was endless, slowing time so that each individual second crawled by. Dimitri could barely breathe, his breath coming in ragged, shuddering gasps, signaling he was nearly at the end of his endurance. His body shivered continuously of its own accord. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop that automatic reflex, much like a wounded animal alone and cornered. His mind was in chaos, the sound of his stuttering heart thundering in his ears.
Hunger beat at him with every slow second that passed. He was aware of every living creature with blood running in its veins that came near him. He could hear that throbbing beat deep in their veins like a drum summoning him. Even the twisting, agonizing pain couldn’t stop the need rising like a tsunami that couldn’t be denied.
His teeth were lengthened and sharp. It took every ounce of discipline he possessed to keep from fighting the silver chains encircling his body. Even with the hooks in him he could have called prey, but the chains prevented him.
He smelled the Lycans approaching long before he heard them coming. In his weakened state, he thought the tremendous gifts of a mixed blood—the Lycan’s dreaded Sange rau —would lessen, not strengthen, but his every sense stretched and grew until he was aware even of the insects crawling on the ground and up the tree trunks.
Sometimes he thought he could actually see and hear the plants growing around him. A few minutes earlier, the grasses surrounding him had been a few feet away from where he hung, but now they covered the ground beneath him like a thick mat. Bunches of flowers seemed to be springing up, fully formed with stalks and petals within minutes. He fastened his gaze to the ground, surprised to see ferns pushing through the earth in a dozen spots surrounding him.
“You don’t look so tough hanging there,” Gunnolf sneered as he came up on Dimitri.
Dimitri didn’t deign to respond, what was the point? Gunnolf wanted to elicit some response out of him, and he wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. It wouldn’t lessen his pain, and he couldn’t get to him to take his blood, so really, retreating into his own mind was a far better option.
“Your friends haven’t exactly come running to save you,” Gunnolf continued, idly kicking at Dimitri’s leg. He laughed when Dimitri’s body swayed and the hooks dug in deeper, ripping at his flesh. “They must have realized what a dirty, disgusting monster you are and left us to kill you. They weren’t all that good in a fight anyway.”
Dimitri remained silent, his eyes on the ground. He could see dirt pushing up in places around the ferns and the mystery of it fascinated him. Some of the grass in spots directly beneath him had grown high enough that the blades brushed his legs. The grass wound around his ankle and slid beneath the tattered hem of his trousers. Slowly he could feel it traveling up along his skin until it found that exact spot where the Lycan hunter had kicked him. Tiny droplets of something cool and wet fell from the leaf to find the bruise. At once that pain was gone.
“I will say, you’ve lasted longer than anyone else ever sentenced to death by silver.”
If their plan worked, she would take the information Mother Earth provided on the Lycans, their strengths, weaknesses and habits, their nature and the very characteristics unique to them, and she would use those things against them.
Their last fail-safe depended on her. If they were wounded, or Dimitri was too weak, they needed that last safety zone. She would need to call on every ounce of her mage blood, of her connection to Mother Earth, of her Dragonseeker lineage, to provide a protection spell strong enough to allow anything human or Carpathian to enter, but hold all Lycans out. If she succeeded, they would have a place to run to, a place to defend if the Lycans attacked them. If not, they would all certainly die.
5
P ain was endless, slowing time so that each individual second crawled by. Dimitri could barely breathe, his breath coming in ragged, shuddering gasps, signaling he was nearly at the end of his endurance. His body shivered continuously of its own accord. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop that automatic reflex, much like a wounded animal alone and cornered. His mind was in chaos, the sound of his stuttering heart thundering in his ears.
Hunger beat at him with every slow second that passed. He was aware of every living creature with blood running in its veins that came near him. He could hear that throbbing beat deep in their veins like a drum summoning him. Even the twisting, agonizing pain couldn’t stop the need rising like a tsunami that couldn’t be denied.
His teeth were lengthened and sharp. It took every ounce of discipline he possessed to keep from fighting the silver chains encircling his body. Even with the hooks in him he could have called prey, but the chains prevented him.
He smelled the Lycans approaching long before he heard them coming. In his weakened state, he thought the tremendous gifts of a mixed blood—the Lycan’s dreaded Sange rau —would lessen, not strengthen, but his every sense stretched and grew until he was aware even of the insects crawling on the ground and up the tree trunks.
Sometimes he thought he could actually see and hear the plants growing around him. A few minutes earlier, the grasses surrounding him had been a few feet away from where he hung, but now they covered the ground beneath him like a thick mat. Bunches of flowers seemed to be springing up, fully formed with stalks and petals within minutes. He fastened his gaze to the ground, surprised to see ferns pushing through the earth in a dozen spots surrounding him.
“You don’t look so tough hanging there,” Gunnolf sneered as he came up on Dimitri.
Dimitri didn’t deign to respond, what was the point? Gunnolf wanted to elicit some response out of him, and he wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. It wouldn’t lessen his pain, and he couldn’t get to him to take his blood, so really, retreating into his own mind was a far better option.
“Your friends haven’t exactly come running to save you,” Gunnolf continued, idly kicking at Dimitri’s leg. He laughed when Dimitri’s body swayed and the hooks dug in deeper, ripping at his flesh. “They must have realized what a dirty, disgusting monster you are and left us to kill you. They weren’t all that good in a fight anyway.”
Dimitri remained silent, his eyes on the ground. He could see dirt pushing up in places around the ferns and the mystery of it fascinated him. Some of the grass in spots directly beneath him had grown high enough that the blades brushed his legs. The grass wound around his ankle and slid beneath the tattered hem of his trousers. Slowly he could feel it traveling up along his skin until it found that exact spot where the Lycan hunter had kicked him. Tiny droplets of something cool and wet fell from the leaf to find the bruise. At once that pain was gone.
“I will say, you’ve lasted longer than anyone else ever sentenced to death by silver.”
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