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Dreaded
He walked her backward. His lips slanting over hers in a slow sensual dance.
A promise of what he wanted from her this time.
Her hand lifted to press against his chest. She broke away from the kiss. “Don’t make me do this, Disseus. I can’t…Please, I beg of you.”
“Of all the things I would give you, you’ll not have mercy from me in this.” He shook his head slowly. Conveying his severity.
“Why!” She cried pitifully. “Why not?”
Her desperation clear in the tinge of her high voice. In her shifting movements.
She’s perilously close to running away.
“Because, for a few moments, I’d have back what you stole.” He was watching her with dark intent. His movements to pursue her growing increasingly more predatory.
She backed up faster. Deeper into the woods. Hands outstretched to keep him distanced as she floundered for an escape. “I didn’t steal anything Disseus.”
“You did.” He said flatly. “When you took it all
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Disseus could see it all happening through a bleary gaze but was unable to move. His mind fighting him. Despite all his fierce will, he couldn’t seem to communicate to his body to cooperate. He rolled onto his back in an effort to stand and despite all his effort to stay awake. Blackness encroached at the edge of his vision and worked its way in until he was completely unconscious. Unable to see. Or hear. Or help. Almora sent up another wall of searing frostbite. The dark-skinned monster bounced off the wall. And skid across the branch covered ground. Rising, it had to shake itself to re-orient. It jumped in continued attack. Entirely focused on Almora now. Intent on ripping the Dread in half. Snowflakes spun from the white sky. Wind whirled around them, making visibility low. But between flashes of pure white streaks, the red bird flying a wide circle could be seen. She ducked her head and swept low again. But
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“I’m sorry.” Almora offered consolingly. Sympathy written over her face at Nim’s plight. Knowing that the reason she so badly wanted to get to the country was to try to save her son. In true fashion, Nim ever offered a reassurance at the apology. Merely changing the subject. “You were quite impressive, Dread.” Nim indicated. “You weren’t too bad yourself.” Almora beamed at the compliment. “Summoning the cold is only bending what exists to my will." She eyed Nim. "But to entirely change shape is something else.” “Not so much as you’d think.” Nim coughed roughly and drew a swift breath. Hand still clutched to her side. “My beast is every bit as present as your blizzard.” She gave the fairer woman a meaningful look. “Probably more so while in the heart of Spring.” Conjuring Winter amidlate Spring was a truly remarkable feat. “You must relax.” Almora dismissed. Gently pressing Nim’s shoulders in the crackling straw p
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He queried without facing her. "Are you well to travel?” Shaking off her surprise at the abrupt question, she realized she was. She felt rejuvenated. Standing, she wriggled her bare toes and found them blessedly painless. “Are you two well?” His gaze touched on Almora’s bandaged hand. Wondering if she was too injured to continue. How had she hurt herself? He felt guilty that he'd not been more helpful. Wasn't worth much, unconscious. He grunted. “No help for me, Old Friend.” She smiled softly at him. “I am of more mortal blood. It’ll take time to heal my breaks.” Most Dreads are only partly magic, and still partly human. Lon still stared, jaw agape. Obviously unable to speak as yet. Shocked that he'd seen me heal like that. In all the years he's known me, that's never happened. Even Almora’s eyes remained wide with surprise. Filled with disbelief. Disseus stood and str
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