Page 115 of Heartsong
Glendower’s left eye twitched, and a vein popped on his forehead. “Very well,” he said, and reached an empty hand toward Anna.
For a moment nothing happened—or so Frey thought. Then a horrid gurgle sputtered from Anna’s mouth, and she clawed at her neck. Frey watched in horror as his Anna was strangled by magick, wisps of it rising like waves of heat off baked earth.
“NO!”
He exploded forward, his rage all-consuming.
Dragan’s big body intercepted him, and the two went down, landing in a heap of wings and fists.
“Hold him!” Glendower shouted.
Men ringed the two guardians, trying to help subdue Frey, but he buffeted them with his wings and smacked them with his tail. It was Dragan who was the true threat, his eyes empty as he clawed and struck Frey’s front.
They grappled across the living room, the couch screeching as it was shoved and kicked away. Dragan knocked Frey into two guards, sending them down to the ground, the coffee table splintering beneath them.
“Frey!” Anna called to him through the melee, the sound rasping in her abused throat.
He roared in Dragan’s face. He didn’t care that it was another guardian he fought nor about the promise of magick returned to his kind—they have Anna!
He slammed his fist into Dragan’s empty obsidian face, knocking the bigger male off balance. They went rolling across the floor, breaking more furniture, and the guards scrambled.
The butt of a rifle hit him in the shoulders, but Frey could hardly feel it in his rage. It’d been centuries since his last battle, one that had ended in the devastation of his kind. He wasn’t about to lose another fight, not when his Anna was in danger.
Frey rolled to his feet, slapping away a guard with his wings just in time to meet Dragan’s next blow. He caught the male’s fist and twisted until the wrist broke. His obsidian face snarled in rage and pain, the first true emotions he’d seen from his clanmate, and Dragan fell on him in a fury.
Claws swiped across Frey’s chest, blood welling from the wounds, and Dragan’s tail wrapped around his ankle and pulled, trying to unbalance him.
Frey bared his fangs and slammed his head into Dragan’s, their horns grating against each other. They pushed and tossed like bulls, trying to throw the other off. Dragan boxed him with his wings and caught Frey’s next strike, their hands locking into one large fist. Despite being broken, Dragan wielded his other hand, sinking the claws into Frey’s arm.
Men rushed him from the side, hemming him in toward the wall. They overwhelmed him with their mass, two of them clinging to and weighing down his free arm while another grabbed at a wing, crushing the delicate membrane and straining the bones.
Dragan shoved, and Frey careened back into the wall, head bouncing off the plaster. He hissed at his clanmate, swiping his taloned feet at Dragan’s thigh, but the big male kept coming.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Glendower approach carefully, the collar unbuckled and awaiting his throat.
I will not lose!
With a roar, Frey wrenched his arm to the side, smacking one of the men away with his fist caught with Dragan’s. He freed his hand and filled it with the head of another and threw him across the room into a bookcase.
Dragan seized the opening, sinking his claws again into Frey, catching him on his exposed side. Blood spilled from the wound, the sting sharper than teeth.
“FREY!”
“Take the collar,brawd,” Dragan growled. “End this.”
In answer, Frey threw himself at Dragan, heaving the combined weight of his body and the men still clinging to him full force on the other guardian. They all went down in a heap of bodies onto the couch, which cracked and collapsed under the weight.
Frey got his feet under him and staggered upright.
Just Glendower stood between him and the one guard holding Anna.
He leapt straight for them, pumping his arms and wings, only to run into a wall of magick. Sent reeling, Frey just caught his balance with his wings. He charged again, needing to get to his mate, when a clawed fist wrapped around his ankle.
Glendower raised his hand again, his face rigid with fury.
“Enough! Just put on the goddamn—”
The front door exploded.
