Sweet Enchantress (Sweet Beauty #2)

Part Twenty-One

The guard moans. His eyes roll back in his head. He claws at the wound on his shoulder. Something is rolling over and over in his flesh. Winifred calls out in alarm, pulling his torn shirt backwards. Patches of brown fur are rolling through his skin.

What's going on? I don't understand. I don't understand anything.

The guard's muscles bulge. His shirt rips away. Metallic feathers unfurl down his arms. Claws sprout from his fingers. His back hunches forward. His face twists outward, warping into a gigantic, evil muzzle. In seconds, he's gone from man to monster.

"Hungry!" he gasps. "Hungry! So hungry for blood!"

And I realize, too late and to my horror, the true power of Azra's curse. Not to make one beast, but many. To travel in a bite, forcing men to take action against their consciences. To do—

Fangs sprout from the guard's face as he spins around and buries his teeth in Winifred's belly.

I scream. Blood flies. The world flashes red and white, dangerous and dark. I scream, and scream, and scream—

"Stay away from them!" Dom screams, bursting into the room. A crossbow thrums. A shaft pierces the guard-beast's heart and he falls back into a heap. Dead. Blood is everywhere.

The world is still.

"Isamar!" Dom's arms wrap tight around me, pulling me close to his chest. I'm so close I can hear his heart pounding, feel the cords of muscle popping out along his strong arms. His tears wash down the side of my face. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"No," I gasp. I don't know what's going on. Dom left me. He hates me. Why is he holding me to his chest like I'm the most precious thing in the world to him? "I'm fine. I . . . where's Yuvra?"

"Damn that Sonnan bitch!" he says. "I . . . I've been a fool, Isamar. She's beautiful, and brave, but it's all false. Nothing like your beauty. Your goodness. I love you. I want you. Let's ride to Kaye Castle right now. Let's go home and get married. Let's never come back to this disgusting pit of a castle."

I shiver as he kisses me, over and over. Bloodstains dot my temples. I curl up against him, hoping to black out the world, to vanish into my love for Dom. He loves me. He loves me. He loves me. I can reach out and have him. I can have everything I want.

From behind me, Winifred cries out in pain.

Protect Winifred. Beth's warnings echo in my ears, filling me with shame. I should have protected her. I should have paid more attention. But it's still not too late.

I pull myself from Dom's arms and drag myself to the wounded princess.

"What is the meaning of this?" shouts a familiar voice from by the door. Sandar Iettin. The king's chief enchanter. He's here. Nearby. Watching. But he can't do anything. Only I can. I'm the enchantress. Only I can make this better.

I press my hands to Winifred's bleeding side and summon all the magic I have left. Grabbing all the power I have inside me, I grab it and push it inside her.

Magic rises and falls in her flesh. Blood washes over my hands. I reach inside her, feeling for the broken pieces. The beast clawed her open, nearly ripping her in half. Blood and bone and organs fly freely. Please. Please. Please. I give myself over to my instincts, letting the power move freely between us, letting the power tell me its needs.

Heal. Heal. Heal. I will the power to follow this path, knitting the organs back together, sealing the gashes in artery and vein. It isn't easy. I need Winifred's own body to work on my side, to serve as my ally in knitting her back together, but it's weak. Strained with the demands she's put on it. The fragile body of a court lady, so weak in a world that demands strength. I give her as much energy as I can spare, but it's almost not enough. This won't be easy. For her or for me.

Together. Together. Together. I work my will into a weapon, locking it together, strengthening it. Gold light rises from my hands, bright and unforgettable. My hair stands on end. Lightning crackles down my spine. Heal. Heal. Heal. A soft humming fills the room. Under my gentle, glowing touch, muscles and nerves reconnect. Skin washes over the wounded body. The baby is lost, but Winifred will survive. Be strong, I will her. Be strong.

Heal. Heal. Heal.

Winifred moans, rolling over, curling into a little ball. I can feel the spark of her life essence flaring, bright and sure. She'll live.

"She'll live," I whisper, and step away, staggering. My legs shook. Magic shone from my hands. "Dom . . ." I reach out, trying to grab him. Longing to be held. Needing to be held. I need you. I need you. I need you.

"No." Dom pushes my hand away. "No, Isamar. No."

Dom's eyes are wide with shock and betrayal. His green eyes, which always shone like diamonds in my presence, have lost some of their brightness. He looks angry. Broken. Betrayed.

It's me. I've done this to him. I've shattered everything.

And I realize, too late and to my horror, that there's always something left you can lose.

"Guards!" Sandar Iettin shouted. "Arrest her! She's an enchantress!"

"No!" I gasp, staring at Dom. The fire. The fire. I can already feel it on my skin, eating me alive, devouring my bones. "Help me. Help me, Dom, please!" I reach for my magic, trying to grab hold of this situation, trying to grab hold of Dom. But it's gone. I must have funneled everything into Winifred. I can't reach any power. I can't reach any part of myself or who I am.

"You know the law!" Iettin shouts. Boots pound on the stairs. Swords rattle in their scabbards. Rough hands grab me, pulling me away.

"Dom!" I shout. "Help me! Please!"

But he says nothing. His green eyes watch me sadly as the guards drag me away. My knees tremble.

I fall into darkness.