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Fenrys, whom Gavriel was already
crouched over, the golden light of his power
wrapped around the blood-soaked fur. Healing
him. The white wolf did not rise to
consciousness, but his breathing steadied.
Good enough.
“Heal him,” Rowan said with lethal
softness. The Lion looked up, and found that
Rowan’s gaze was no longer on the wolf. But
on Cairn.
Chunks of flesh had been torn from Cairn’s
body. A lump on his temple told Rowan it had
been the blow that had rendered him
unconscious. As if Fenrys had slammed
Cairn’s skull into the side of that metal table.
And then collapsed himself mere feet away.
Collapsed, perhaps not from the wounds
themselves, but ... Rowan started. What had
happened here, what had been so terrible that
the wolf had been able to do the impossible to