A Shade of Kiev 3(14)

He pushed me to the ground behind him just as the leader of the pack leapt toward us, its weight causing the ground to shake. As soon as I touched the leaves, a forcefield shot up around me.

My breathing quickened as two werewolves leapt toward me, only to be propelled back by Rhys’ barrier.

I didn’t know why Rhys didn’t just use one of his powerful curses to finish the lot in one swoop. Instead he withdrew a long silver dagger from his belt.

Maybe he wants to put on a show for me.

As the leader hurtled toward him, he dodged the creature’s jaws and swung himself up onto its back.

With one sharp motion, he stabbed the werewolf in the neck. The werewolf collapsed and Rhys jumped off.

“Who’s next?” Rhys’ growl sounded just as fierce as the werewolves’.

Another wolf leapt at him. Rhys dodged again and, spinning round, sliced through the animal’s back leg. The wolf howled in agony and collapsed, writhing on the floor as blood soaked the ground.

The other wolves now looked more hesitant to approach.

“What’s wrong? You can’t handle fighting me man to man? I’m not even using magic on you.”

His words incensed the werewolves who remained standing enough that three of them leapt forward at once. I gasped as one of them pinned Rhys to the ground, knocking his dagger out of his hand. Lowering its head to Rhys’ face, the beast stretched out its jaws. Rhys lifted his leg and kicked the wolf hard in its underbelly, hard enough to make the giant animal groan and loosen its grip for a second. That was all the opportunity Rhys needed to stab the wolf in the eye with his finger.

The wolf howled. It lowered its head to bite him again. Rhys caught its jaws just before they closed down on him and, though its sharp teeth must have been cutting through Rhys’ fingers, he pushed upward, jerking the wolf’s head back, and managed to reach for its second eye.

The wolf rolled off of him onto its back and thrashed about on the ground. Rhys got to his feet and glared around at the remaining wolves. They stared back at him, then backed away. Although they were clearly loath to, they didn’t see it as worth losing their lives or their limbs over Rhys.

Or perhaps they were just planning to return with reinforcements.

Once they’d all disappeared, Rhys finally used his magic again. He manifested a rope and tied the three werewolves lying on the floor together by their front legs. Then he grabbed the other end of it and approached me, dragging their tremendous weight along with him. His chest was heaving as he wiped his forehead with his sleeve and brushed away the black curls that framed his face.

He touched the protective boundary surrounding me and it disappeared just as suddenly as it had formed.

He held out his hand and I gripped it. He pulled me to my feet. I couldn’t stop staring at him. I’d known how powerful he was with magic. And I’d known that he was physically strong without it. But I’d had no idea that he was strong enough to tackle werewolves with his bare hands and barely break a sweat. This is vampire-level strength. I’d never seen any witch display such prowess without the use of magic.

Rhys walked over to his dagger and, wiping the blood off it with the hem of his cloak, slid it back into its sheath in his belt.

Still holding the end of the rope attached to the suffering wolves, he walked back over to me and held my hand.

He looked down at me through his thick dark lashes, still breathing deeply from the fight.

And then, before I could stop him, he reached for the back of my neck and pulled me against him, hungrily claiming my lips. He kissed me with a passion that I’d rarely experienced in him. His right hand hiked up my dress and rested on my inner thigh, the black rose etched in my skin prickling beneath his touch.

I was speechless as our lips parted. Raindrops dripped from his dark hair onto my cheeks as he stared down at me, his eyes burning with need.

“I love you, Mona.”

This man is going to be the ruin of me.





Chapter 14: Mona





Rhys transported us back not back to The Shade, but to our own island. As we appeared outside the main door of the castle, I almost screamed in fright as I laid eyes on the beasts he’d brought along with us.

Rhys took the werewolves down to one of the dungeons. I made my way up to our chambers at the top of the castle. He reappeared a few minutes later carrying a tray containing a jug of dark red blood and two wine glasses. I stared at the tray in disgust, daring to believe that this was werewolf blood.

He placed the tray down in the living room. We both changed into dry clothes and then sat by the fire.

I hadn’t said anything to him since he’d kissed me. I wasn’t sure what to say any more.

I understood that he was trying to train me to channel the power of our Ancients. My mind couldn’t be resistant to him. But I didn’t understand how loving me was mixed in with all of this. Rhys never was one to mix in his personal feelings with tasks in service of our ancestors. But now I found myself doubting his true motivation.