Chapter 9: The Silver Under His Skin

Bram's fingers closed around my wrist, and the gold flooded up into his eyes.

It was not a ring this time.

It filled both eyes, hot and bright.

A rush of cold went through my arm.

Something in me poured out through his hand.

It was my strength, my breath, my balance, and it ran out of me through his hand.

My knees buckled.

"Let go," I said.

Bram did not let go.

His shoulders swelled under his coat and the gray left his face.

He straightened to his full height, and his voice came out deep and rich.

"Yes," he said. "That's it. That's what I've been missing."

Lark started screaming.

I tried to pull away, and my arm would not obey me.

Rowan moved.

He did not shout.

He took Bram's wrist in one hand and wrenched it back across the bar.

Bram's grip broke.

I fell against the gatepost.

Rowan caught Lark with one arm before I dropped her, and he caught me with the other.

On the far side of the gate, Bram stood swaying.

The gold in his eyes flickered.

Then it went out, all at once, and he folded to his knees in the dirt.

He looked ten years older.

"Morwen," he whispered. "Please. Don't go."

Two Kestrel wolves ran out of the dark, his Beta and a driver who had waited down the road.