Page 54 of Plaything of the Dark Elf

I race to his side. Trembling, I trail my fingers across his hands, up his arms, and to his chin. Tears muddle my vision. I’m laughing incredulously.

“This is crazy,” I say softly. “The healer and your butler both said that it would take a while before you woke up. You’re so strong. It’s amazing–”

The words stop dead in my throat. Suddenly, the hand I am caressing shoots up and grabs my throat, enclosing it completely.

“Hey.” I can barely manage that word out. I laugh awkwardly. “Etheron, what are you doing? Stop.”

That does nothing. There’s an indecipherable look in his eyes. Then, his grip tightens around my throat.

“Hey!” I claw at his hand. “Stop it! You’re hurting me!”

He’s not himself. This isn’t Etheron. This is something else, something darker and terrifying. Something that wants to choke the life out of me until there’s nothing left.

I don’t want to believe it’s him, but Etheron is the one with his hand around my throat. He’s the one who wants me dead.

“Etheron!”

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