“Do you mean Aidan?” she asked warily.
“The time has come. I must explain about—”
But Kavya’s words were cut off by a loud crash and then the sound of tinkling glass. Christina grabbed for Saint in alarm, but he was already moving.
“That sound came from Aidan’s room,” she heard him growl. Much to her disbelief, even though she’d seen him do it once before, he vaulted over the balcony and just...dropped.
“Saint,” she shrieked. She ran to the stone railing and peered into the darkness. When she saw nothing, she turned around and raced for the French doors. She gasped when Kavya reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her up short.
“Let Saint deal with it.”
Christina jerked her arm, but Kavya had a grip as unbreakable as his biological son’s.
“Saint told me we were safe here from Teslar and his revenants,” Christina muttered as she tried wildly to get out of Kavya’s hold.
“He’s correct. Teslar cannot enter. My magical ward is intact. That’s got nothing to do with Teslar,” Kavya said, nodding toward the stone railing where Saint had dropped out of sight a moment ago.
“Let go of me,” she seethed telepathically. Several more loud bangs and a whimper emanated from below.
“He should be fine,” Kavya said. The sound of wood splintering was followed by the howl of a dog in pain. Kavya shook his head regretfully. “Damn tortuous process, growing up.”
“Let me go to my son, dammit,” she shouted furiously. Much to her surprise, Kavya released her. Fear-saturated blood rushed in her veins as she raced down the stairs to the first-floor bedrooms. More sounds of chaos followed—yelps and growls, the sound of items being knocked to the floor, and furniture being moved violently as bodies crashed into it.
“Aidan,” she screamed as she flew into the bedroom. She couldn’t see anything clearly in the moonlit room but the white curtain billowing inward from the opened window and shadows writhing on the floor.
She reached for the light and flipped it on. It took her a second to recognize Saint in his wolf form. He stood rigid, his mouth clamped on the back of the neck of a smaller wolf. The other animal lay on its side on the floor, writhing and struggling against Saint’s hold.
“Scepter… Saint, where’s Aidan?” she demanded. She looked desperately around the room. The bed was mussed, but there was no sign of her son. She ran to the attached bathroom, but it was empty. The smaller wolf continued to snarl and whimper as it struggled in the hold of Scepter’s jaws. She whipped back the curtains.
“Aidan!”
The snarling wolf went quiet. She froze.
Christina turned around slowly. For several seconds, she just stared at the two wolves. Horror crept over her slowly and then swelled when the smaller wolf tried to rise off the floor, but Saint held it down firmly.
“Let go of him,” she screamed.
Scepter’s eyes were on her as she charged across the room. When she was several feet away, he unclamped his jaws. Christina pulled up short when he growled at her through bared fangs. The smaller wolf began to writhe and convulse as though it were having a seizure. Its body jerked against the wooden footboard of the bed, causing the bed to lurch several inches on the wood floor.
“Aidan?” she whispered incredulously, tears splashing down her face. As before, the smaller wolf paused in its agonized writhing when it heard her voice. She started toward the fallen animal. Scepter stepped in to her path, teeth bared ominously.
“You bastard. What have you done to my son?” she asked, horrified panic nearly stealing her voice. The wolf that Christina sickeningly believed to be Aidan gave a high-pitched bark of pain and growled. She lunged past Scepter, desperate to give comfort. The next thing she knew, Saint was wrapping his very human arms around her. He lifted her off her feet. Christin
a kicked furiously, but he swung her around his hip until her feet thrashed in the air.
“Put me down!”
“I can’t let you near him. He might hurt you unintentionally while he’s struggling.”
Her mind went numb for a suspended moment. Was this really happening, or was she caught in some kind of horrific nightmare? She needed to get her son and get out of here. Saint sat her down on the edge of the bed. Through the haze of her rising panic, she noticed he was naked. As soon as he released her, she stood and tried to get past him, slugging him in the ribs when he didn’t get out of her way. He grunted.
“Dammit, Christina.” There was a ripping sound. Saint grabbed her thrashing arms and shoved them behind her back. She realized he’d torn a length of decorative braid off the bedspread. He tied her wrists together. She screamed and kneed him in the groin.
“Ouch!” He shoved her onto the bed. Christina fell back and stared up at him. His breathing was harsh and his eyes flashed fire.
“I need to go help him. You’re not making this any easier,” he said as he picked up a pair of jeans from the carpet and hastily donned them.
“Why should I make this easy? You attacked my son. You changed him into a…whatever you are. How could you?” she accused. Tears soaked her face.