Page 110 of Harbinger

Their jeers become a chorus as they circle me, moving so quickly that they blur into the night. The hounds howl and pull at their leashes as if scenting prey. I lurch to my knees, ignoring the blood in my mouth and my torn shirt. I chose this, but I will not make it easy.

Wolves will bite.

I spring forward and grab a boot, knocking the man to the ground. I shove against his chest and propel myself onto my feet just as someone tackles me. Fingers choke my throat until blackness seeps into my vision.

“Should I kill her?” my captor calls to his friends.

I tear at the hands around my neck.

“No,” the bartender’s cold voice answers. He moves away from Kieren and takes a single step toward us. “Burn the witch!”

“Nooo!”

But the cry doesn’t come from me. It’s Kieren. He’s on his feet.

The hands at my throat shift and clamp down on my shoulders. I suck in air and moan, “Run.”

But Kieren already is.

Just not away.

Toward me.

No.

A blade flashes in the lantern light, followed by the wet sound of flesh tearing. Kieren slows, his body arching, the breath leaving him in a sharp, broken grunt. He stumbles, hands flying to his stomach as darkness spreads and oozes between his fingers.

No.

The word shatters through me.

Not Kieren.

He tries to take another step toward me. He makes it halfway before his knees give out, and he hits the mud hard. His face twists in pain as his breath comes in shallow, panicked pulls.

“Kieren!” My voice breaks, but I don’t stop fighting. “Please let me help him. I can help him.”

Someone backhands me across the face, and my head snaps sideways, vision bursting into sparks. “Shut up.”

In the chaos, Kieren groans, and my insides hollow out. I thrash against the hands holding me in place, kicking my legs out. My feet scrabble against the loose dirt, muscles screaming as I try to squirm free. I can fix this. I just need to get to Kieren. It’s not too late. It can’t be.

But a meaty arm hooks around my waist and yanks me up like a rag doll.

“You don’t look so powerful now,” the man says scornfully.

I wrench my gaze back to Kieren. He’s on his side now, trying to crawl, fingers digging into the mud and slipping. Each movement is slower than the last as he refuses to give up. He lifts his head, eyes wild as he searches and finds me.

Relief flickers over his face, even now.

“I’m here,” I sob. “I’m right here.”

I strain toward him, but the arm at my waist snaps me back. My captor seizes my wrist and pins it at a torturous angle behind me.

“Leave him,” the bartender says with a casual wave of his hand. “Let him watch.”

“No!” I scream, my legs giving out. I sag to my knees, voice choking around the splintering pain in my wrist. “Help him. I’m the one you want. Please.”

The word please tastes like poison on my tongue.