Page 30 of What Whispers in the Dark
Garrik slammed his eyes shut. Sealed with the force of his pain.
“Held you down, choked the life from y?—”
And then it happened.
The shift from who Garrik wanted to be to who he wasMadeto be.
Thalon’s taunting snapped something deep inside him that he could not control any longer.
Garrik felt serpent darkness encasing every nerve in his body, molding every bone into the demon he fought to keep contained. Sensations, hot and sharp like the injection of venom, pricked and burned their way through his veins. Every inch of flesh on him felt as if it were slithering through blades of sharp-edged glass. Warping him. Reshaping him. His vision leached until no color remained and he only knew infernal darkness.
Lifting a warm arm against Garrik’s chin, a male voice commanded, “Look at me, Garrik.” When he refused, that male demanded, “Look at me.”
Through gritted teeth, his strength nearly gone and the oxygen sucked from his veins, Garrik had to obey. His cursed, lifeless eyes pierced glowing, golden ones with a glare of promised death—not recognizing who controlled him as the monster inside him raged.
If the male faltered, even for a second, he would snap his starsdamned neck without hesitation.
I will fucking destroy you, he sent to the male and curled his lip, canines sharpening.
Golden beads caught his wavering attention, and somewhere from the depths of his mind, he knew this male. Knew what those golden beads were: Earned. Which meant he couldnotkilla Guardian, lest he be cursed and damned. But he did not care, and continued to snarl,Rip the flesh from your bones and paint the horizon with your blood, Guardian ilk.
The Guardian’s face fell.
What seemed like lifetimes later, he murmured, “Thalon.” Soft. Tender. As if attempting to calm a terrified, defenseless beast. “Garrik, it’s Thalon.” With Garrik’s head caged against his solid abdomen and that arm unmoving from his chin and throat, a dark palm cupped his forehead. A thumb stroked.
Marked One filth, he spit. Hostile.
That thumb kept stroking. “Thalon.”
I will drink the blood from your skull and display it at Magnelis’s feet?—
Something wet splattered Garrik’s cheek.
“Thalon,” the male gently repeated, like it meant something. “Thalon,” he said once more, lips quivering. His arm trembled and re-tightened as he pleaded, “Please.Please, Garrik. Don’t make me do this.” Tightening and tightening. “This isn’t you. You’re in there somewhere. Fight … fight your way back to me, Garrik.”
More warm droplets. More liquid on his cheek.
The fucking pissant is crying?He soundlessly laughed. Flexed his numb fingers inside the magical bonds.
“You are Garrik, High Prince of Elysian.”
No shit. What did that matter?
“You aregood.Selfless. Our protector. Not a mindless killer. My brother held captive.”
By you. And when I get my hands around your worthless neck—He pictured them there. Wrapped around the reike tattoo. Imagining that vitalsnap.
The male’s hold kept narrowing against his throat; Garrik’s vision spotted as his other thumb stroked his temple. “You are Garrik, beloved High Prince of Elysian. You aregood.” Hisvoice wavered like a lesser male.“Selfless. Our protector. Not a mindless killer?—”
Re—he choked—Release me … s-so I might disprove your … delusion, w-winged sw-wine.
Tighter and tighter and tighter.
“My brother held captive. You are Garrik?—”
S-sav-vage P-prince?—
“Beloved High Prince of Elysian. You aregood. Strong.Selfless. Our protector. Not a mindless killer. My brother held captive. You are Garrik, High—” The male continued stroking. Continued chanting, but high-pitched ringing replaced his insufferable voice.
