FOREVER KNIGHTS: #5 Subjugation of Beasts

Deragan sniffed the ground in search of a snack when he felt the ripple of her fear from the Manse behind him.

He froze. His fur ruffling. I’m too far away to get to her.

What’s going on? Panic began to rise.

Lucien’s there. He tried to calm his throbbing heart.

Closing his eyes caused the body of the wolf to slump to the ground while his spirit covered the landscape at an impossible speed.

“Go back inside.” The voice was in her ear. And the familiar warmth of his presence surrounded her.

Recognizing his voice she looked around but, as usual, saw no one. She was paralyzed, staring after the twisted black creature.

“It’s awful. What is it?” Fine hairs prickled on her body as she watched it fade into the dark.

He didn’t get the chance to answer.

Boots scraping stone behind her made her straighten. Temperature dropping, she was suddenly so cold she shivered. She refused to turn.

“Worthington is here.” The voice told her.

“I know.” She wrapped her arms around her body.

“You need to get back inside. In the crowd.”

To Lucien.

Where the hell is he!

“What’s wrong with him?” She whispered. “He’s not the same tyrant he was in the tenderage. There’s something evil about him now.”

Cimmerii. I wish I could explain it to you.

But it’s too early. You won’t understand. Won’t…believe…

“I know. You need to get inside.” He sounded urgent now. Desperation creeping into his voice.

“Who are you talking to?” Worthington’s large hands gripped the railing on either side of her as he leaned to press against her back.

She arched forward to avoid touching him. “You’re cold. And you’re too close. It is improper.” To her credit, her tone was decisive.

Deragan reached for Worthington’s collar but in this form his hand only passed through. He tried again. Frustrated. He turned and peered through the curtain. Glimpsing Lucien’s tall head scanning the crowd.

What could be more important than watching over her? Deragan wanted to choke him. It was unlike Lucien to be so careless.

Nora gasped as she glimpsed a black tail flicking below as something tucked more firmly under a bush.

Grunting suddenly, Worthington’s grip turned white-knuckled. Leaning around her he studied the ground.

“You saw it. Didn’t you?”

He averted his attention. The disgust on his face melting as he composed himself.

Yes, he did. Deragan’s jaw was so tight it ached as he watched in frustration. Willing her to get back inside. Before he tosses you over the balcony. Or worse.

In the distance, the pale shades of the gazebo brightened the surrounding bushes. With its white dais, it was the highlight of the garden. It was the purpose of the winding cobbled path cutting the flowerbeds.

“What was it?” She asked harshly. Trying to push back against him to get him to step back.

He refused to give ground.

Slime. Deragan assessed the distance to the trees. Afraid to leave but even more afraid if he stayed he’d watch helplessly as she was killed.

I have my voice. I can only tell her what to do in this form. I’m no greater help then that. The feeling was sickening.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said acidly.

Lying through his teeth.

Can’t you see he’s lying!

“Shove him away. Push against the railing.” Deragan’s voice urged her.

But Nora couldn’t bare to get any closer so she twisted to face Worthington. Swallowing hard.

“Get away from him!” Deragan was nearly barking at her.

Sebastian! Deragan called to him in desperation. Knowing he was too far away to be of assistance right now.

Worthington was so close she was pressed against the railing. Eyes blackened as they traced over her. The look almost tangible. Like hands clawing her.

He wants to hurt her.

She was getting sick to her stomach. Stomping down the loathing she focused on the door past him.

I’m here. Bast’s voice rose back to him. Allaying some of his raw panic.

Send Lucien to the balcony.

Done. Bast answered.

“Go inside.” The voice repeated. Louder.

Simon Worthington murmured something perverse. Blasting her with the alcohol lacing his breath. As well as something acrid and bitter. She gagged slightly.

It’s the smell of death rot. His body is dying from the inside out.

Worthington fisted her hair and yanked her head back to force her to look at him. More terrified than before, she shoved him. He pulled her closer.

“What are you doing?” She cried, words fading as she saw his eyes darken to black sketched with red. Primal evil crawled across her. She tried to twist from his grasp.

“Nora. Get away!” The voice shouted. Making her tense.

I’m only scaring her more. He was shifting unable to manifest more firmly in this state.

“Now you listen to me!” But Worthington’s tightening grip in her hair had the opposite result.

She flailed against him harder and he struggled to press her back against the railing. Shoving hands catching the shoulder of her dress and snapping it. He covered her mouth with a hand as she moved to scream. Shaking her violently as he spat threats. “I’ll kill you. Push you right over this balcony.”

Her blue eyes skid to look down over her shoulder. She shook her head at him, eyes wide. The fall would kill her. Eyes forced to the sky she saw slivers of gray cloud veiling the moon. Dulling its light.

“That’s right. I’m tired of your rejections. You’ve no place snubbing me. You’re barely more than servants.” His fingers dug into her skin. She winced as he used the hand on her face to tip her over the railing.

“What are you doing?” Lucien roared, stepping onto the balcony. His gaze barely slid to Deragan’s outline.