Free Druid Knights 02: Knight of Rapture by Ruth A. Casie

she’s not been well. Would you rather help her yourself? Come here.” He stepped toward her, grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the chair.
    The sound of pounding broke through the haze that clouded her mind. She hesitated and turned toward the door. Yes, that was where the noise was coming from. He pulled her hard and brought her face close to his, so close she saw the dark specks in his amber eyes. So close she saw the haunted, desperate look in his face. So close she knew he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Then he touched her mind.
    “Heal Caylyn. You’re Arik’s great sorceress. Heal my wife.” Focusing hard, she used all her strength to push him out of her head. She leaned on her staff. Light-headed, she concentrated harder and fought him for control of her mind. But little by little he claimed it.
    “Rebeka.” Someone screamed from the other side of the door as the pounding turned to the sound of splintering wood.
    She glanced back at the chair. The glimmer that had surrounded the woman faded. The woman, her withered hands grasping a faded handkerchief, drew a deep breath from Rebeka. She recognized the dead body of Bran’s wife. The handkerchief was her gift to Cay the day she married Bran.
    “Rebeka, I’m almost through,” George called as the door splintered.
    “Is this why you called me here? For Caylyn?” She stared at the woman and wrinkled her brow. She turned to Bran and searched for any semblance of the boy she remembered but she couldn’t reconcile his features. Something—the Dark Magick, she imagined—had erased all remnants of that boy. That’s when she understood what he had done. He’d sacrificed everything to bring Caylyn back.
    “I can’t do anything for her.” Her voice was a whisper and his face was awash with tears. “No one can.”
    “You were my last hope.” For a moment his features changed and he was Bran. “I tried everything. There is no other place for me to turn.” He slid to the floor and put his head on Cay’s lap. His eyes, with a pained expression, searched her face.
    She stood next to him. She knew the grief of losing someone you loved. There was nothing she could do.
    His body quivered and he bolted up. With his hands fisted at his sides and determination marked on his face, his features appeared to stretch and change.
    “Fight it, Bran. Don’t let it take hold,” she encouraged him. “Let me help you.”
    “No,” he screamed at her. “Don’t mind-touch. I don’t want to hurt you, Rebeka.”
    “Don’t lock me out.” She concentrated and touched his mind at the edges. There wasn’t any resistance.
    “No. Stop. It’s a trap. Don’t make me do this. I. Can’t. Stop. It.” Bran struggled to keep control. “Go, now. Tell Arik I…” Bran closed his eyes. She thought she saw tears. “It wasn’t his fault. Leave now,” he demanded.
    But she hesitated. One more attempt. She was transfixed as his face changed into a maniacal sneer. He grabbed her hair. “I don’t need your sympathy. I need my wife.” He shoved her away and sent her to the floor, her staff clattering across the room.
    In her compassion, her defenses were down. Bran hovered over her like a dark hawk. She tried to retreat, scuttling backward on all fours like a giant crab. She groped for her staff but it was beyond her reach. The sound of her heartbeat was dimmed by something else. Bran. He was invading her mind. She couldn’t get him out of her head but she could contain the damage.
    Splinters from the smashed door flew past her. She hoped the flying debris would distract Bran long enough for her to get a stronger hold of her mind and push him further out of her head.
    “Hold on, Rebeka.” She sensed George’s touch in her mind before he entered the room. Together, with their minds, they beat back Bran’s attack.
    Bran winced with her effort and gaped at her. He dropped to his knees, bent over her and let out a sigh. “You fight hard, I will say that. As