Damned fool girl, what was she doing? But the smirk on Belaisle's face told me. Still full of himself, still thinking he could win. The pulsing light of the crystal faded, cooled, and I understood at last why Owen had taken my hand.
My crystal. His power. Rather a wicked combination.
As for Belaisle, I was a little surprised at his continuing arrogance. Either he was unaware I'd discovered the secret to fighting his kind or he just didn't have the brain capacity to believe he could lose.
About to prove him wrong.
"Where's who?" Belaisle took a slow step forward, his people closing in. Only now they were split in focus as the coven and the clan pushed against them with magic and rage.
"Bastard!" Trill threw the word at him, as sharp as any knife. "Where is our Nona?"
"Your precious Nona." Belaisle brushed at one sleeve as though he wasn't standing in the middle of a fight he was about to lose. "Ah, yes. The old woman. I recall now. She died badly, I'm afraid."