Page 11 of The Tracker's Rage

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Blake licked his lips and pounced.

Then he froze in midair, his maw wide open, dripping saliva.

His eyes flashed yellow as he blinked in surprise. His body started floating toward the ceiling, going higher and higher.

“Blake Foster,” Damien’s delighted voice echoed through the large space, “I have been looking for you.”

The black wolf snarled, his forelegs dancing, scratching helplessly at the air as he rose and rose.

Strolling casually, Damien appeared in my field of vision. He wore a top hat and a cloak with red lining. His white hair clashed with the youthfulness of his features.

“Toni, is that you, love?” he asked.

I whimpered in answer, willing my body to heal, to knit itself together, but my healing abilities weren’t as fast as I would’ve liked. Would I even be able to recover from this? For all I knew I would be in traction for months, lying on a bed with a pooping hole in the middle of the mattress.

“What to do with you?” Damien said in a contemplative voice as he looked up at the dangling wolf. “I wonder how many bones you would break if I drop you from that height. It wouldn’t kill you, but it would hurt like hell.”

“Put him down,” Jenson snarled from the side.

Damien shifted his shoulders slightly and glanced to his left. Jenson inched into my line of vision, holding Rosalina close to his body, one hand around her throat and the other one crackling with magic right next to her head.

Oh, no!

“Put him down, I said, unless you want me to fry your friend’s brain.”

Damien scanned Rosalina from head to toe, an expression of cool indifference shaping his features. “Go right ahead,” he said. “I barely know her.”

The bastard!How could he?

I let out a bark of protest and tried to stand, but I was too broken to do anything.

Jenson moved his hand closer to Rosalina’s head, murderous intent in his copper-tinted eyes. He wasn’t bluffing. And, either way, he wouldn’t care if my best friend died.

I hooked my claws around the edge of one of the marble steps, attempting to move, fighting to reach her. I had to do something, anything. I couldn’t lose her. If anything happened to Rosalina...

Jenson’s magic crackled, brushing her hair.

“All right, all right, I’ll put him down,” Damien said between clenched teeth.

I deflated with relief, my body going limp.

Damien lowered his arms slowly, bringing Blake down. He set him on the floor, not-too-gently, though he kept him under his control, frozen in place.

“You first,” Damien said.

“No, you, Ward.”

Damien’s right eye twitched. “At the same time, then.”

Jenson shrugged as if it were all the same to him. “On the count of three. One.” He pushed Rosalina forward, but he kept his hands at the ready.

Damien flicked his wrist, and Blake slid forward as if on skates.

“Two,” Jenson said, lowering one crackling hand.

At the same time, Damien gave Blake another push forward.

“Three.”