Page 31 of Unbound By Shadows
“Look! Hair devices,” he said to Selene.
Selene described what she was looking for to the merchant. As they talked, Sam noticed a young Lycah hovering by a nearby baker’s stand. He was shabbily dressed with dark hollows under his eyes. His lupine face was pockmarked, and his shoes were too big for his feet. The boy looked around but did not notice Sam watching him. He approached a small table of bread loaves and quickly grabbed one to stuff under his ragged tunic.
Sam’s entire body rippled as his instincts for vengeance roared to life.
Stealing!
Sam glanced at the baker to see if she had noticed the theft. Was she about to respond accordingly? If she did, his urges would cool, knowing that vengeance had been served. Yet her attention was turned toward the ovens.
Punish him, a voice whispered in his head.He’s getting away.
No, Sam thought, he doesn’t deserve it. He’s only a sick boy.
Grab him, take all that he has.
Sam’s breaths came quickly. His eyes bored into the back of the young man’s head.
Chase him, catch him. Make him feel the betrayal and loss born of theft.
Another part of his mind pleaded,no, not in front of Selene.Sam wiped his sweaty palms against his tunic. The smell of fresh breadfaded as he remembered the vinegary meat they were fed when the blood wagons stopped at Padu. The music and laughter of children running past turned into screams and pleas for mercy. His body became overwhelmed with the need to punish, even though his mind knew it was unwarranted.
Crush his bones, rip his skin,the voice said.
Breathe, focus, control,he chanted to himself, desperate for a reprieve. But his demonic instincts were too strong. He was sick with dread at the violence he knew was about to unfold.
All other thoughts fell, and he became consumed with need. With clenched fists, he closed his eyes, gathered his strength for attack. His powerful body tensed like the predator he was, and when he opened his eyes, his vision clouded with crimson. Heat flooded his body, readying him for combat. He focused in on the boy darting among the hundreds of Aurelians in the crowd.
Nothing else mattered at that moment. He had forgotten where he was or how he had gotten there. Time was irrelevant, and the atmosphere had become a void. All that existed was a demon and his prey.
Make him pay.
Chapter 13
Sam’s body tensed to charge toward his target until a sound made him hesitate.
“Sam?”
He paused to listen again. The voice was hollow and seemed to come from far away.
“Sam, what’s wrong?”
Someone was calling to him. He cocked his head, trying to determine its origin. Who would call to him, here in Aurelia? He was alone in this realm. He had always been. Who was here with him? Pushing past his urge to bolt toward the boy, he looked around.
Through his red haze of vengeance, he saw someone staring up at him, her brows knitted with concern. Her eyes were dazzling blue, her lips moist and pink. She was speaking, but he couldn’t make out her words. She wasn’t frightened of him and stood very close.
Why was she so near, Sam wondered. Females never came this close to him. Especially one so beautiful. Sam was about to tell her to run, to get away from him as quickly as she could and hide.
But then something cool touched his arm. She seemed to speak again. He felt the same sensation, but stronger, on the back of hishand. A delicious chill, like new snow. He leaned into the feeling, greedy for more. It bloomed gradually, creeping outwards from his arm into his chest, down to his stomach and legs. Its sharpness was crisp and clean.
He exhaled raggedly.
Lightness. The oppressive weight clawing at him suddenly lessened. The fury was cooling, the pull was easing, and the feelings of powerlessness, of being a slave to his nature dwindled.
It took him a moment before he remembered where he was. He was in Padu, but no crowds were watching him. No taunts or coins thrown at him. His feet were still planted where he stood, and he had not taken off through the market to inflict pain against his own will.
He had worked hard to control his impulses, but there were times when they simply spiraled beyond his control. And yet, for the first time in his life, he pulled himself back from the brink. He hadn’t acted on his impulses at all, which meant there was no innocent blood on his hands.
A gentle breeze cooled the sweat dotting his forehead. He blinked as his vision returned to normal.
