Free Lights of Aurora (The Stone Legacy Series Book 3) by Theresa Dalayne Page A

blew a strand of Sarian’s hair away from his face, now drained of color.
    Zanya held her breath and hoped the creature didn’t hear her pounding heart. Its dark eyes gleamed with specks of gold. Sleek, midnight-black fur covered its entire body. The only exception was a patch of gold on its chest.
    The underworld animal snarled and lunged at Sarian before he had a chance to change and match the beast’s size and strength. The animal’s jaws clenched around Sarian’s shoulder, and it thrashed its head side to side until the ground was dotted with a fresh coat of red.
    Sarian’s frantic efforts to morph into his beastly form only seemed to anger the creature. He managed to slice the animal’s face with a sharp blow. It snarled and threw Sarian’s mangled body against the altar, then towered over him. The beast’s snout came within an inch of his face. Sarian dropped the book to the ground and reached out in a placating gesture, his hands now trembling as if he were a child. He opened his mouth to speak.
    The beast didn’t give him the chance. It snapped down and tore off Sarian’s head. Blood sprayed over the steps as the animal discarded its trophy. Sarian’s head bounced down the steps until it rolled to a stop at Contessa’s feet.
    Bile rose in Zanya’s throat. She pressed her hands over her mouth and dug her back into the stone—as if curling into a ball would somehow make her invisible. She remembered doing the exact same thing in the orphanage while drifting off to sleep, hoping Sarian wouldn’t be waiting for her in her dreams. It didn’t work then, and she had no idea why she was doing it now. Maybe instinct. Maybe just wishful thinking.
    Contessa stared down at the remains. She tilted her head to one side in morbid curiosity, and then she stepped over Sarian’s head, as if it was merely a piece of garbage littering the ground.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Nine
     
     
    “Rise up and stop cowering on the ground.” Contessa paid no attention to Sarian’s limp body lying beside the altar.
    Zanya frantically searched for the beast.
    “Child.”
    Contessa’s cold tone brought Zanya’s focus back to the woman—and the corpse. Sarian’s hand twitched. Zanya clenched the wound on her gut. It would be her withering in the unforgiving sun if she didn’t heal soon. The ache in her side grew into sharp spikes of agony.
    Contessa stooped down, grabbed a handful of Zanya’s hair, and lifted her head just enough to bring Zanya’s ear to her lips. “Hear me, child. I will not repeat myself twice.” Zanya swallowed and nodded the best she could. “You have done me a great justice today, and although it pains me to admit it…” Her lips puckered as if something bitter coated her tongue. “I am in your debt. Even the damned believe in honor.”
    Zanya would take what she could get, as long as it meant going home. “I want to get the hell out of here.” The blood from her wound had formed a pool beneath her, but she couldn’t leave without taking back the one thing she’d come for in the first place. Not after everything that had happened. “But first I came here to get Jayden’s soul back.”
    “That’s right.” Contessa let go of Zanya’s hair, allowing her cheek to slap to the ground. “You still desire to retrieve your comrade’s soul?”
    Zanya struggled to sit up against the stone wall. “Yeah, but why do I get the feeling you know something I don’t?”
    “I know many things you do not.”
    Everything about Contessa’s tone made Zanya uncomfortable. “Like?” She continued to probe, struggling to ignore the pain radiating through her muscles.
    Contessa examined her face for a moment before speaking. “I shouldn’t have expected you to understand.” She sighed. “When you came to me for help after your comrade’s passing, I found an opportunity I could not resist. I am not the only enemy Sarian has made over the years.” She extended her hand to the quiet realm.