Page 82 of Shackled to the World
The phantom scrambled backward in slow motion…much too slow to escape.
Only for the sword to falter when Erickson stumbled forward.
Instead of taking off her head, he’d sliced her clear across the throat.
Sadie grabbed her neck, tried to stem the bleeding, but it spilled through her fingers and down her chest. Eyes wide, she dropped to her knees, wheezing as blood gurgled out of her mouth. Their eyes met, her dark ones pleading with her to take care of Edgar after she was gone.
Then Edgar was there to catch Sadie, cradling her in his arms as he lowered her to the ground. Annora felt a devastating wrench that he went to Sadie and not her.
He was bleeding, his impeccable clothing rumpled, his hair wild and untamed, but it was the tortured look in his eyes that shattered her heart.
Feeling sick, Annora dragged herself to her feet.
When Erickson turned, she saw what appeared to be a crowbar sticking out of his back, clear through his spine. Bones gleamed as he dropped the sword and tried to reach behind him and wrench out the weapon.
Logan was breathing heavily, swaying on his feet, looking like a light breeze would knock him flat, clearly at the end of his endurance.
He’d used the last of his strength to get to her.
Then he grinned like a fool, his teeth coated with blood, his lips cracked, his face swollen and bloody, accepting his death, almost happy to leave the pain and suffering behind.
Annora recognized the sentiment, having felt it plenty of times herself.
She refused to let him go so easily.
“Erickson!” She screamed his name, scooping up the sword and slicing the edge across her palm. Blood immediately pooled from the wound, dripping between her fingers, and she waved the bloody hand at him, only backing away when his wolf caught her scent. “If you want to survive,” she taunted, “you’ll need my blood.”
His eyes gleamed yellow as the predator in him rose to the surface.
He dismissed the others and began to stalk her.
Chapter Twenty
Erickson cocked his head at her, wolf cunning staring out at her from behind his eyes. Then he licked his lips, as if he could already taste her blood pouring down his throat. He reached back, ramming the crowbar through his torso, more blood spilling down his chest. Then he calmly reached down and wrenched the metal out of his ribcage.
“Annora, no.” Logan scurried toward her, stumbling over his own feet, only to have Erickson kick him in the chest hard enough to send him flying backwards. Bones shattered under the blow. He landed with a crunch, then lay unmoving, and something inside her snapped.
The afterworld spilled out of her in a rush of vengeance, the darkness filling the space between them like angry storm clouds brewing. It hit Erickson full in the chest. His back arched, his arms were flung wide, and a jubilant chuckle as his wounds began to stitch shut. “I will be unstoppable.”
Only when she was sure the dark particles had infected every cell in his body did she pull back with all her might. The golden strands of his life force were frayed and decayed, stolen from others and cobbled together like gossamer cobwebs.
Erickson staggered, his arms dropping heavily to his sides, and he blinked at her in confusion. He stumbled toward her like a drunk, tripping over his own feet, and he glared at her. “Stop it!”
Annora no longer felt any pain.
No worry.
No fear or anger.
Only one thought consumed her—vengeance.
Power thrummed through her as she gathered his life force. It fought her, not wanting to leave its host, but she ruthlessly, remorselessly yanked it away. It began to gather in her hand like a ball of frayed yarn, slowly growing bigger and brighter.
Though her body was healed, the sheer amount of power she used left her raw and empty. The blood covering her body felt tacky as it dried, the stench of his fear feeding her pleasure, and she smiled maliciously at him. “How does it feel to be fed upon like some fucking parasite the way you did to so many?”
A growl rumbled from his wolf, only to turn into a whimper, and still she didn’t stop. The afterworld gathered above them, brewing like a tornado gathering force. Wind tugged at the world around them, debris pelting those who dared get too close, but none of it touched her. She’d almost swear she saw the spirits of all the dead Erickson had consumed waiting for him.
“Stop!” It wasn’t a plea, but a demand—a weak compulsion. Erickson lunged for her, barely able to stay on his feet, the desire to crush her burning in his eyes.
