Inside my head, my wolf half barks an alarm at the same time that my talisman flares its warning. With nightmare clarity, the flash of Fae clairvoyance that hits me unfolds in the next instant when Muirgen lunges at Dorian.
The drone of the heavy rain is drowned out by a squelching wet sound as new tentacles explode outward from her previously severed stumps. The slippery slope glows, illuminated by the gemstone's calculating hatred pouring like radiation from a breach in a nuclear reactor.
Her sucker-covered limbs land with soft thumps, catching Dorian off-guard as he tries to scramble away. Opening her arms, she tumbles to embrace him in a foul parody of intimacy, her naked breasts pressed flat against his hard chest as they topple over. Driven by momentum, they roll down the slope towards the water.
