A Thread of Magic Read online

Page 3

Ranealya smelled the other shapeshifters approaching before they entered the inn. That should’ve been her cue to leave. But the waitress had just placed a steaming bowl of stew in front of her, the first hot meal she’d had in weeks, and she wasn’t going to leave until all of it was in her gnawing stomach.

  Besides, the others usually left her alone when they saw her. They knew she was different from them. She’d once been a member of the elven elite before the elders changed her name from Nyelle to what meant “the cursed one” in their language. She’d had no say in becoming what she was.

  But they had.

  The stew clogged her throat when she smelled Malinius. No matter what form he took, Ranealya knew his scent. This time, he was in the form of a man with a ginger beard. The last time she’d seen him, he’d had the gall to impersonate a high elf to extract information for the king. But his plan had been foiled once she alerted Galen of his actions. She could only imagine what duty Malinius was here for now. Perhaps some peasant was stirring up trouble. Perhaps a human woman who dared to cast magic. Perhaps the dwarves were smuggling a shipment of gems out of the region. It didn’t matter, none of it involved her.

  So why did Malinius and his entourage zero in on her the second they walked through the door?

  He crossed the room and stopped in front of her table. “Good evening, Ranealya,” he said as though they were old friends.

  “It was until you showed up.” She bent back over her food and shoveled it into her mouth as quickly as possible. The sooner she finished, the sooner she could leave.

  Malinius refused to take her hint. He settled into the chair across from her, flanked by two shifters on either side of him. She was trapped until he granted her permission to leave.

  Ranealya slowed her chewing long enough to examine her captors. Malinius had perfected the seamless transition of shifting from one form to another, losing all traces of his shapeshifter nature except for his eyes, which always remained wild. The other four were less skilled. From a distance, they appeared human. But on closer examination, she could see the slightly longer than normal incisors, the fur creeping along the back of their hands, the stray feather peeking out from under their hair.

  “What a pleasant surprise to see you in town,” he continued after ordering pints of beer for him and companions. The other men remained silent, probably because some feral sound would come out instead of intelligent speech. “It’s always nice to have a chance to dine with one of our own.”

  She fought back the growl rising in her throat. “I’m not like you and the others, and I never will be.”

  “Wrong. You are just like us. You possess the same power, the same greatness as we do. When we were transformed, Travodus saw fit to make you one of us as well, so count your blessings.”

  Ranealya threw her spoon in the bowl, her appetite vanishing. “If I remember correctly, the goddess saw fit to punish Travodus for his actions and tossed a few lightning bolts at you and your brethren, as well. I wouldn’t call that a blessing, nor this.” She held out her hand and extended her claws.

  “Now, now, there’s no need for things to turn violent.” Malinius crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair while the other shapeshifters mirrored Ranealya’s changes. “Not when we came here to invite you to join us.”

  While the other shapeshifters stayed in loosely formed packs, Ranealya remained on the outside. For centuries, she’d drifted from one place to another alone, never part of any community. Once the people realized what she was, disgust and terror filled their eyes. But it was better than joining with those that had destroyed the life she once had.

  “I’m not interested,” she said in a flat voice. She started to rise, but one of Malinius’s thugs clamped a paw over her hand, pinning it to the table.

  “Just please hear me out.” Malinius gave her a gracious smile, but the glint in his wolfish eyes spoke only of bloodshed. “I think it’s time we took our rightful place in the kingdom.”

  “You mean all your dutiful service to the crown hasn’t gotten you there?”

  The smile twisted into a snarl. “For years, the kings have thanked me for my service, for the tasks I’ve carried out for them, but their thanks is nothing more than mere words. Where is my title? My lands? My wealth?”

  “Perhaps you should’ve negotiated better terms with them before agreeing to do their dirty work.”

  “Or perhaps it’s time we rise up together and show them how powerful we really are.”

  A chill rippled down her spine. She fought to keep her voice calm as she said, “And you think I would want to join you?”

  “You have no love for the human king, or humans in general, if I remember correctly.”

  “But you’ve conveniently forgotten how much I loathe you and your former master.” She jerked her hand free, the wound created by her captor’s claws healing within seconds. “I’m not interested.”

  This time, when she tried to stand, the shapeshifters on either side of her grabbed her arms and shoved her back into her chair. She morphed her features, softening them to appear younger and more innocent than she did when she’d entered the inn. “Let me go,” she shouted in a high-pitched voice.

  Several of the men in the inn turned around. One of them stood, his hand on his sword, and approached her table. “Are these men bothering you, young lady?”

  One of the thugs drew back his lips to reveal his fangs, but Malinius stepped between him and her would-be rescuer. “This is nothing to concern yourself with, sir. My daughter ran away when I informed her of her betrothal, and now is refusing to come home.”

  The man’s gaze slid to her, then back to Malinius. She held her breath in vain hope he’d come to her aid, but even he seemed to know better than to take on five burly men who appeared to be barely one step above beasts. His hand fell from his sword, and he went back to his table.

  Malinius turned back to her. “Come along, darling. Your future husband awaits.”

  He dropped a few coins on the table for her meal and their beer. At the sound of the clanking metal, her captors tightened their grip on her and dragged her from her chair toward the door. Every eye in the room watched as she struggled for her freedom, but no one had the courage to come stop Malinius and his men. They all believed his lie.

  Perhaps it’s time they knew the truth.

  The last time she’d allowed herself to be captured, she been turned into this form she abhorred. She could only imagine what sick plans Malinius had in store for her now. The only way she could gain her freedom was to do the one thing she was forbidden to do—reveal what she was.

  Normally, she’d choose to shift into a vicious predator with sharp claws and cruel fangs, something that could kill its prey in one swift motion. But they’d be expecting that. No, she needed speed and stealth. Feathers erupted from her skin as her body shrank, slipping free from their hands. Her body shifted into a peregrine in seconds. The humans screamed in panic. With a few flaps of her wings, she’d climbed above their heads and out the second story window into the icy night air.

  She’d managed to reach the woods bordering the town before the burning sting of claws ripped across her back. Her wings snapped taut from the pain, and she tumbled into the snow covered branches. Malinius’s scent filled her nostrils as she fell. Her blood pounded through her veins. She was now the prey unless she did something to turn the tables.

  She rolled over, shaking the snow from her feathers while her body shifted again.

  Malinius emerged from the shadows, the moonlight catching on his yellow fangs and eyes. The wolf was his favorite form, one he used for battle and intimidation. She’d seen him like this enough to shift into a she-wolf that would be more than enough for him to handle.

  They exchanged snarls and growls while they circled each other. Malinius jumped first, tossing her back into the snow. His jaw snapped at her neck, but she managed to roll to the side, knocking him off balance in the process. Then it was her turn to go in for the kill. H
er teeth missed the vital structures of his throat, sinking into the thick muscles of his shoulder instead. The gamey taste of blood filled her mouth.

  Malinius reared back on his hind legs, throwing her back. A howl of pain broke free from her as he buried his fangs into her side. Her ribs snapped under the pressure of his jaws, and the air bled out from her lungs. Waves of pain engulfed her. Her body rebelled against her mind, assuming its natural human-like, fur-covered form. She lay helpless on the cold ground, struggling to suck in a breath while a wolfish Malinius hovered over her with her blood still dripping from his lips.

  He morphed into his own natural form, his arms braced on either side of her. “I’ll give you one more chance, Ranealya. Join me, or die.”

  Her body was already repairing itself. She just needed more time for it to complete its task. “What are you planning on doing?”

  “It’s time Elgeus had a new monarch.”

  The mad gleam in his eyes told her exactly who he thought should assume the role as next king. “Even if you kill Dezrik, he has heirs.”

  “Not if I kill them first.” His grin darkened, his breath hot on the side of her face. “Think about it, Ranealya. We could own this kingdom. All the other races would tremble before us. We are so much more than they could ever hope to be, and we can make them pay for shoving us to the fringes of society.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping so his words barely hit her ear. “Think about how you’d make those elves pay for casting you out of their lands. Think about how much you’d love to have your revenge.”

  The face of Elisus, the high elf elder who cried the loudest to have her banished, flashed through her mind. How she’d love to have him grovel before her, to have him beg her for mercy right before she snapped his neck. But then she saw the pain and disappointment in her brother’s eyes from her actions. If she killed Elisus, Galen would be forced to sever all ties with her. Even during her years of isolation, she could always count on him welcoming her into his home as long as he safely could. She had no desire to destroy the one constant thing in her life.

  “And where do I fit into this, Malinius? Surely, you have enough support to carry out your plan without me.”

  “You and me, we are not like the others, and you know it. We’ve perfected our powers, blended in almost seamlessly with our enemies, taken forms they could only dream of taking. You and I are the epitome of what our race can become.” He paused, the light in his eyes turning from murder to something equally as fearsome—desire. “And when I am king, I will have you as my queen.”

  Her stomach rolled at the prospect of having him lean over her like this every night while he forced himself into her. “I’d rather die than become your whore.”

  “I’m not asking you to be that. I want you as my equal.” He wrapped his hands around her wrists, his claws digging into her flesh. “I’ll give you one last chance. Come with me and rule beside me.”

  Her ribs had finally knitted back together enough to allow her to take a deep breath. She stared at Malinius, choking back her fury and using it to tighten her muscles. “You already know my answer.”

  She slammed her knee into his groin. A cry of pain pierced the night, and his hands loosened enough for her to shove him aside. Her claws slashed across his throat. Blood squirted out onto the snow. Malinius covered his wounds and stared at her with narrowed eyes. She raised her hand to deliver the killing blow before he recovered from his injuries, but the scent of other shapeshifters filled the air around her. She froze and searched the dark woods for them.

  Malinius tried to laugh but choked on blood filling his throat. “You should’ve accepted my offer.”

  Ranealya jumped to her feet and backed away, every muscle in her body poised to spring if attacked. “You’ll damn us all if you try this.”

  “Only if I fail.”

  The scents of the others grew stronger with each breath. She could finish him, only to be killed herself. Running away was the only way to ensure her survival. “I urge you to reconsider this,” she warned before shifting back into a peregrine and flying away.

  This time, no one followed her. Their scent grew weaker with each flap of her wings. She’d escaped.

  For now.