Page 37 of Rise of the Morrigan

"That's it!" Scáthach said. "Unleash the monster inside of you. Release the anger!"

The next thing Cú Chulainn knew a red ball of fur collided with him, sending him tumbling to the ground. It wasn't the collision that unleashed his rage—it was what Scáthach had said... what Forgall had done. But he still had the faerie's gift. He had theabilityto control the wolf. And he had the means—he had his poetry, his tales. He needed a verse... something that would make sense of everything.

The collision with Aife didn't give him the time to think. He had no choice. He allowed the ríastrad to emerge. His skin hardened. His brow broadened and thick fur covered his body. The wolf wouldn't fully take over, not now. He had enough control to influence the beast. But he'd been taken by surprise. Not just by Aife, who now had him pinned to the ground, but the news about Emer's betrothal. All he had over the ríastrad was influence... the rest was all beastly instinct.

His jaws locked with Aife's as their bodies tumbled through the dirt.

Fur, fangs, rage... and lust.

Pain and pleasure, all at once. Claws tearing at one another's flesh even as their two bodies merged in carnivorous passion.

There was no sense in trying to resist. All the pain, the betrayal, the heartache. He'd loved Fand once, but she'd been given to another Faerie. And he'd finally allowed his heart another chance to love, he'd placed all his hopes on being with Emer. That was gone, too. Now there was Aife, the ríastrad—two of them—coming together like it had been destined by the primordial gods. But love had nothing to do with it. Not for Cú Chulainn. Not for Aife. They'd never so much as seen each other before. This was bestial desire—an irresistible, animalistic urge.

He might have been able to stop it. If he really wanted to... but why would he want to? He had no one left whom he might love.

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