“What test did you have in mind? Uncover the earth with a wave of my hands? Singe the grass with a lightning bolt?” He gave his most intimidating stare, the one that froze the bravest Draicon in their tracks. Urien lowered his gaze. Still, Raphael wasn’t satisfied, but disgusted.
He’d never met an Alpha Draicon who could not stand his ground. Small wonder the male wasn’t willing to fight for Emily’s life but chose to execute her as if she were a bothersome burden. Alpha males were supposed to protect all their pack females. Damian, a powerful and pureblood Alpha male, would lay down his life for a member of his pack and would never meekly back away from a confrontation.
No one was willing to fight for Emily. His temper flared. “Let’s get this over with,” he snapped. Raphael jerked a thumb at the door. “Outside.”
In the pristine yard, with acres of meadow grass flowing down a gentle slope, he spotted a likely target. Raphael inhaled deeply, trying to get Urien’s scent. He smelled earth and forest. Urien was Draicon.
Raphael turned and saw a face staring down from the upstairs window. Soon, footsteps on the farmhouse steps alerted him that they weren’t alone. The other Burke pack members gathered behind Urien. Raphael turned and looked at their faces. They resembled a crowd eager for a spectacle, anticipation shining on their round, pale faces.
Let’s get this show over with, he thought in revulsion.
“There,” he said, jerking a thumb toward a large boulder.
Raphael stretched out his hands and summoned the energy. Rock exploded into a shower of granite chips and loud gasps sounded behind him. He walked over to a fragment no bigger than a dime and tossed it at Urien.
“I trust that will suffice,” he said with sarcasm.
“You are the Kallan. The Destroyer. You are permitted to search for the texts as you wish.” Urien bowed his head slightly, but then his gaze was alert and watchful as he lifted it once more. Cunning. “I give you permission to search all our land. However, if you do not sacrifice Emily, you will violate the terms of the contract and forfeit your own brother’s life.”
A flash of grief and anger touched him. Raphael fisted his hands. “I won’t violate any terms by obtaining proof that Emily is the cursed one foretold to bring about the end to all our race. All our race, purebloods and mixed. Know this, Urien. I will do what I must, but I will have the proof I need. I will not take an innocent’s life.”
As he started to leave them, he heard someone whisper, “This Kallan is not like the purebloods of old. He has much more destructive, dark power. He is the Destroyer.”
No emotion showed on his face as he whirled around and went toward his cabin, but inside, his stomach churned the contents of his last meal.
Emily spent much of the morning sitting by her father’s gravestone, searching within herself for answers.
“Papa, I wish you could hear me,” she whispered to the cold gravestone. “I’m no coward, but I’m scared and don’t know what to do anymore. If it’s best that I die to save the pack, so be it, but how can my death at Raphael’s hand solve anything?”
She didn’t know whom to trust. Yet her father always stressed that pack was family and family was everything. Right now, she needed comfort from a familiar routine. The pack always had a big family-style breakfast. Once they had welcomed her at the table with hugs and kisses. Emily longed to belong once more.
Maybe this time, now that they knew she would soon die, they wouldn’t shun her. The thought comforted her a little.
She stood and walked to the rambling farmhouse.
With a confident walk that disguised her inner trembling, she entered the house and stood at the doorway of the enormous dining groom. Her aunt, busy serving a platter of sausage, glanced up. Frozen horror stole over Bridget’s face.
Gathering all her courage, Emily spoke. “I just wanted to join you for one meal, I can eat from a separate plate and destroy it after so I won’t contaminate it, or you can even give me the leftovers you don’t want…”
Her voice trailed off as the entire pack, her family, turned their heads. The repulsed looks echoed Bridget’s. Urien pushed back from the table.
“Get out,” he said tightly. “You are forbidden here.”
Some tiny bit of stubbornness remained, gluing her feet to the floor. She held her chin high, surveying them with what she hoped was a scornful glance.
“Fine,” she said with dignity. “I’m not hungry.”
Gathering the tatters of her shredded pride, Emily left, hoping they couldn’t hear her protesting stomach. She did not run until she was certain the pack could not see her through the farmhouse windows.
Her footsteps made crunching sounds as she ran along the grand drive leading to her cottage. On the front porch of Raphael’s cottage, the Kallan watched her.
Emily jerked to a halt, her heart thudding like a war drums. Her nostrils flared, catching his scent. Spices and an earthy, masculine scent flooded her senses.
She swallowed hard. She didn’t dare trust him. She had trusted her own people to understand, to work with her, and they had turned their backs in her greatest need. But she had been alone for too long to reach out to anyone, even the one who was supposed to save her.
Emily started to pass, but his deep, commanding voice called out. “Emily, come here.”
For a moment she hesitated, then she inhaled again, dragging in a lungful of his scent. It beckoned to her like an elixir, made her dizzy with sharp, sudden need.
Almost against her will, Emily found herself mounting the steps to his cabin. Raphael sat in one of the pine rockers. The chiseled edge of his profile showed in sharp relief.
She chose to stand by the railing, as far from him as possible without leaving the porch.
“Why do you keep running away to the woods?”
Her shoulders lifted in an attempt at insouciance. “I like the forest.”
“So do I. It holds an aura of mystery, strength and power. Especially these woods.” He cocked his head at her. “One of my favorite poems is about the woods. Robert Frost wrote it.”
“Robert Frost,” she realized. A Kallan who read poetry like she did?
“He was like you, in a way. He cherished the earth. You feel more at home in the forest, don’t you?”
Emily fell silent, not knowing what to say.
Finally, he looked at her. His expression was blank, but she read steely resolve in his dark gaze. “I know this was a shock to you, as much as it was to me. But from now on, no more running from me.”
“Who are you to order me?”
“Your draicaron. Your bonded mate. You can’t run away from that fact, Emily.” He leaned back in the rocker, his boots tipped upward. “I had a talk with your Alpha—”
“My
