The Black Wolf
“Fine. Then I’ll give you more.”
My breath caught.
Zevarion opened his arms, light crackling at his fingertips. His feet slowly lifted from the ground. His eyes once dimmed by exhaustion now glowed with fierce resolve.
Then his power began shifting, leaving him. Not toward Xareth. Into Xareth.
He kept going, pouring himself into the light. Golden threads of power bled from Zevarion’s body into Xareth’s outstretched hands, and the demon drank it in greedily.
“Yes… yes!” Xareth howled, his voice echoing through the castle, past the broken walls, across the battlefield and beyond. “This is it! More!”
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