Page 142 of Rescued By the Beast
"Then come closer and prove it." My lips curve into a wild smile.
He hesitates. For a moment. A single moment of doubt.
And that's all I need.
I shoot forward like lightning, my speed an explosion of pure instinct and rage. Luther raises his hands, trying to conjure another spell, but I manage to be faster. My claws close around his arms, crushing the bones with a satisfying snap. He screams, the magic dissipating into the air.
The beast inside me vibrates with pleasure. But it's not enough. Not yet.
I lift him up and throw him against a tree, the impact shaking the branches. He groans, sliding to the ground, stunned.
"Now you're going to die." My tone is low, threatening, my whole body vibrating to finish him off.
Luther stares up at me from the ground, panting, hatred burning in his silver eyes. But this time, there is no arrogance in them.
There is fear.
He mutters something and tries to force his broken arms towards me, fire sparking from his palms as I lunge at him, my claws tearing into his shoulders, my fangs sinking brutally into his head as I force my jaws shut.
His scream bursts into the air along with the sound of his skull cracking.
Blood spills onto my tongue, his brains fill my mouth, but I don't let go, not until I feel his head completely destroyed. His body falls sideways, limp, dead, onto the dirt floor.
I spit his remains in my mouth onto his corpse.
It's over.
I turn immediately, with a cry of pain and fury, in search of my partner.
I stagger towards her, my vision closing in shadows. The burn on my arm throbs like live embers, consuming me from within. My essence is draining away with every second, and my form transitions back without my wanting it to. The impact of my knee against the ground shakes me, but I ignore the pain.
"Please, my love..." My voice comes out hoarse, faltering. With my good arm, I touch her cold face. Her skin is too pale, contrasting with the dark, h y red of the blood spreading beneath her head, soaking her hair and staining the floor. "Come back... open those beautiful green eyes for me..."
But they don't open.
A cold shiver runs through me. My body gives way, I lean over her, the weight of exhaustion crushing my bones. I can do nothing but whisper her name, murmur it against her forehead, begging her to come back to me.
A distant echo calls me. My name.
I should react, but all I feel is guilt. Guilt for not protecting Sandra. For not realising sooner. The witch... everything about her was strange, too obvious, a deliberate decoy, and I fell for it like a damn fool. The real danger was still out there, laughing in my face while my partner died in my arms.
Strong hands grip my shoulders.
I blink slowly, recognising the figures materialising before me. Viklaus. Ted. Balthazar.
My mouth opens to speak, but no sound comes out.
"She's on the verge of death..." Someone says, their voice a sharp whisper that cuts through my soul. "In her condition, she must have already consumed her last extra life... Time is running out."
The air escapes my lungs in a silent sob. My mind spins, my heart bleeds along with Sandra's. I feel her slipping away. Losing her to me.
Cold tears stream down my face without me even having the strength to cry.
Balthazar kneels beside Sandra, pouring a healing potion onto her pale lips. My eyes burn as I watch her throat move weakly, trying to swallow the tiny drop of hope.
Someone pushes a potion against my mouth too.
The smell is strong, tempting.
