Book 3. The saga continues. With her mating to Haku rapidly approaching, Chihiro has a number of new problems to face. But these are nothing compared to the plans a new foe has for her. Sequel to Enchantment of the Heart.
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Haku took to the sky, following the scent of the spell and its creator. It was easier to think in dragon form. The crushing emotions he experienced in his other physical form were dulled. He was left with only one overpowering emotion; rage. Pure, white-hot and it burned through him. The spirit he pursued had hurt his mate, possibly killed her. He would have stayed by her side but even he could not disobey the old laws. He was driven to complete the task she had appointed him. His will had no bearing on the situation. His anger was directed at her also. If she had not been so loyal... she would never have come for him, she would have lived. He fed the fires of his anger and such thoughts vanished.
He was hunting and his prey was not only highly intelligent, it was cold-blooded and ruthless. He had underestimated his prey and it had cost him both mate and child. He roared his outrage to the speck in the sky that was his target. His prey was fast, but Haku knew it was only a matter of time before he chased him to exhaustion. He poured his hatred into his serpentine muscles and streaked across the sky like a white arrow fletched with green feathers.
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Kenshin would never have thought the dragon would come after him. He was infatuated with his mate, surely he would have stayed with her? Perhaps he had miscalculated and she was dead already. It was difficult to maintain any speed as his talons clutched a large obsidian ball. The wing muscles of his bird form ached and the cold desert night seemed to penetrate his feathers. There was not enough strength left in him! He could not waste his energy on a chase. The dragon would catch him! This was clearly something he could not let happen. He had sacrificed everything for what he carried. He would not allow an enraged lizard to snatch victory from him now!
He folded his wings and plummeted to the ground. He landed awkwardly and changed form. He heard the dragon bellow. There was no time left. Kenshin brought his wrist to his mouth and bit it, tearing out a chunk of flesh so he did not immediately heal. He did the same to his other wrist. Blood flowed steadily from the wounds as did the residual power within him. He crouched and pressed his wounds to the black ball. The stone absorbed the viscous fluid, letting not a single drop spill to the sandy ground.
Kenshin reflected that it was fitting that a spell that was born from his blood was now to be completed in the same way. Donating his own life force, he knew he was sacrificing the last thing he had left to give. He watched the sky dispassionately. He hoped he had enough time, he refused to surrender. He had no doubt that Haku would show him no mercy. Kenshin smiled to himself. He would have done exactly the same in Haku's position. He felt his body begin to struggle. It was protesting at the loss of both blood and power. Kenshin overruled his instincts. His own discomfort was nothing, the spell was all that mattered. That and the new world that would be forged from it.
