Kindred and Wings Read Online Free PDF

brother does, too. Find me there once more . . .”
    Then she was gone, now a memory too. Finn was left standing among the gray dust and the debris, his hands clenched in angry fists, his mind already darting to where she was sending him. He knew where he had been the happiest in his life. The sea. It had been with the sound of the ocean in his ears.
    Finn had never wanted to go back there. Now, however, he knew he would have to.

“Well, I must say that this is a lot cooler than I imagined,” Pelanor said as she turned and smiled at Byreniko. The scarlet flame that contained them described a circle of about twelve feet—a circle that gave off absolutely no heat. Byre waited in the middle of it, crouched down, hands on his thighs, content to see what would happen.
    “You could at least say thank you,” Pelanor growled, tossing her long dark hair over one shoulder. The Blood Witch always lingered on the edge of anger, ready to boil over into action. It was that blatant and simmering danger that made her even more attractive than Byre would admit to anyone. Letting out a long slow sigh he folded his hands together.
    The last thing he should be considering at this moment was how Pelanor drew his eye. He’d just seen his father murdered by the Caisah and had entered the world of the Kindred, the place of trial for his ancestor Ellyria Dragonsoul. Primitive sexual emotions were not something that he could entertain at this point.
    Ellyria—that was who he should be thinking of now, since she had been the only other of the Vaerli to enter into the realm of the Kindred as they just had. The tales of the terror and pain she had endured were not very comforting.
    “I should mention that I don’t like being ignored.” Byre was always surprised how quickly the Witch moved—and almost as silently as the Vaerli once had. She now sat with her face only a few inches from his own. Her eyes flicked from green to blinding gold, like a cat’s caught in the light.
    “I can see that,” he replied quietly, watching her more carefully. He’d thought that the Kindred were the creatures that he would have to watch for. His sister Talyn’s gift of the Blood Witch was an added complication, but she had saved his life when the Caisah had appeared, so he owed her something. “I am not ignoring you. I am simply examining our situation.”
    Her eyes flickered over his face, and he realized that she was young indeed for one of her kind. Most Blood Witches were studies in composure, from what he’d heard—but his one seemed constantly on a knife-edge.
    Pelanor tilted her head, and something changed behind her dark eyes. “I miss my gewalt ,” she said it simply, and the longing in her voice ran deep.
    Byre glanced down, twin slivers of white fangs rested delicately against her full lower lip. The Phaerkorn relied on blood, preferably the blood of their gewalt —but in an emergency another would do.
    A stir of eroticism roused his contrary body, which obviously did not know the difference between passion and danger. The twitch of Pelanor’s smile told him it had not gone unnoticed; Phaerkorn could smell even better than a hound. Yet Byre wasn’t about to say anything about that. Instead he reached up, tucked his hair back behind his ear and turned his head away from her. “Then drink from me. We will both need our strength for whatever is ahead.”
    She let out a little gasp which sounded hopeful and shocked. For an instant Pelanor leaned forward a fraction, but then her face clouded over and she leapt back as if she’d been burnt. Her hand was shaking as she wiped the back of it over her mouth. “You don’t know what you’re . . . you shouldn’t . . .” She stopped suddenly, as her eyes remained fixed on Byre’s exposed throat and the racing pulse there.
    The confident and powerful Witch was gone, revealing a shaking and very young Phaerkorn. She was holding herself still, as if afraid that movement would break her