I blink, and it’s gone, replaced with the sight of frozen, lifeless gray stone. That voice I heard earlier breaks through the violent ringing in my ears, and though I don’t want it, my attention is drawn to the intruder. Slaine.

“How could you let this happen?” he demands, his face purpling as his rage rolls off him in waves, infecting the air. “You assured me Fenryr’s familiar had no way to break through the wards you placed!”

Slaine’s words strike me as odd. According to Malice, there is no way to ward against a soul born of the human realm—which Fenryr’s familiar is.

It seems I’m not the only one he’s been lying to…

“He must have found a way through,” Malice says, twisting his face into one of mock astonishment. “I could never have seen this happening…”

As he says the last part, his eyes find mine across the room, and heat sizzles in my veins. “Not in my wildest dreams…”

I know he's not talking about Fenryr’s familiar. He’s talking about me. About whatever happened when I blacked out.

Malice turns back to Slaine, his expression the picture of confusion. “I came in to check on the human, and Echo had already bonded with her. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry! Just fucking fix it!” he snaps, his milky eyes lighting with rage.

“There is no way to fix it. It’s done.”

“Then I’ll just kill her,” he snarls, taking a step toward me. Before he takes another, Slaine’s muscles freeze, held mid-step by an explosion of Malice’s power—one that’s palpable in the air.

“I noticed you failed to bring a guard with you. What a silly thing to do.”

“Release me at once, Gylden filth,” he snarls, attempting to break free of Malice’s vise grip. “I said release me!”

“We had a deal,” Malice whispers, his pupil blowing, consuming the red of his iris in a single blink. “You don’t touch her. You don’t think about touching her.”

The invisible vise tightens around Slaine’s neck, turning the skin of his face purple, then blue as he struggles for breath.

“Say it,” Malice whispers, his words slinking through the air with an ominous warning. “Say it, and I’ll let you go.”

Slaine reached to his neck, clawing at the air in desperation. “Fine,” he chokes, expelling the last of the breath in his lungs. “Fine. I won't… touch her…”

“Much better.”

The dark energy is sapped from the room as Slaine falls to the floor in a limp heap, clutching his throat as he takes deep, ragged breaths. When he raises his head, there’s enough fire in his eyes to melt The Far Place, and his tone is just as heated. “Take Fenryr to Kaebl’s cell. If we can’t fix this… the best thing to do is separate them.”