CHAPTER THIRTEEN
VAYEN
Red.
Everything was red.
The rumble in my chest escaped my salivating mouth with little regard for our surroundings. It was all I could do to remain whole. To not phase in the middle of a Lunamorian festival with Hollows present.
The urgent whispers of my companions only permeated my consciousness in fragments.
“…impossible…”
“…how is…she can’t…”
“…move her…Vayen…”
I could feel their grip attempting to restrain my thrashing limbs, but I was singularly focused on that fucking Hollow.
“I’ve never smelled a Soran woman before. I thought it would be… special.”
His hand on her throat.
The fear tearing apart her delicate features.
The growl that ripped through me was untamed. That prickling heat, dancing along the underside of my skin. The thrumming of my bones, promising the transformation that I had spent decades attempting to call upon. Even if just to experience it once more. What I would have given.
Everything.
I would have given everything.
I had given everything.
But now I was willing to destroy it all. I would bury my fangs and claws in that fucking bastard’s chest, and I would bathe in the pathetic gurgles sputtering from his dying body until nothing was left. Even if it meant forfeiting our lives.
I would have.
And as my bones began to shift with the perfect agony I had spent twenty-odd years craving, I intended to.
But a shock of white hair and a large palm on my forehead plummeted the world into darkness.
Save her…
…free yourself.