Highland Sorcerer Read Online Free

the frenzied charged atmosphere.
    "Charity—" he screamed on a gush of
breath, his form blurring.
    He disappeared beneath her grasp and
her hands whipped out, closing around air.
    The wind died. Water poured out of the
faucet. Throbbing pain pounded inside her head.
    Sapped of strength, Charity slumped to
the floor.
     
     

Chapter Three
     
    Toren hurdled out of the spiraling time
rift back inside the dungeon. He dropped to the floor, hands
splayed across the grainy stone. The hated bands materialized
instantly around his wrists, the bespelled symbols he had so
painstakingly unraveled for days to make his brief escape, glowed
even more brilliantly than before—strengthened in tri-fold measure.
He would not be able to so easily slip their bonds
again.
    The swirl of soft fabric rustled near.
The hem of Aldreth's white gown whispered across his fingers as the
witch crouched near his shoulders.
    "Clever, clever sorcerer."
    Slender fingers stroked his wet hair.
"You've bathed." She caressed the back of his shoulders. He
stiffened, vowing when he had these bands off, he'd wrap his hands
around her dainty little throat. "And have endured a healing. I
see. Ye fled to a Healer Enchantress then? And was it worth the
cost, young Limont? To have your perfect bones rejoined that I
might have the pleasure of breaking them all over again? Mended
flesh that I might once again slice? Ye believe with this healing
ye've gained the strength and will to endure, but I remind ye how
long I've lived, how patient I can be. You will break and I will
have what I seek."
    Though it took every reserve he had in
him, Toren lifted his head in challenge. "Ye need my acceptance to
retrieve it." He grinned. "I'll die before giving you
that."
    She cupped his chin between her palms
and frowned. "I suppose ye will." Abruptly she removed her hands
and let his head fall. Toren barely caught himself before his
forehead hit the stone.
    Aldreth rose and paced away. The hem of
her gown swept along the dirty floor. "'Twould not be my favored
outcome. Ye know I prefer you to yer brothers."
    Every muscle in Toren's body stiffened.
She had used the threat to his family before, yet it still punched
a hole through his gut every time. He prayed Shaw and Col remained
safely shrouded and didn't try anything stupid—like coming after
him.
    Toren pushed up on his
hands, arms shaking. Aldreth was a fool if she thought threatening
his younger siblings would have the desired effect. It only
strengthened his resolve to hold out longer and give them time to
make it to the standing stones of Reolin
Skene and remove their magic from Aldreth's
reach permanently.
    Aldreth clapped her hands together. "I
wonder if Shaw will hold out as long as ye. So young, I cannot
imagine he'd endure more than a sennight. Shall we
wager?"
    Toren roared, pulling himself to his
knees. "Witch. Ye will not touch my brother."
    Skirts swirling, Aldreth crouched near
again. Her finger stroked down his nose. "This doesn't have to be
difficult. We could be powerful together. Ye'll see. I'm not evil,
Toren. I will not harm yer people. That is not what I seek for
them."
    "The very essence of what ye propose
will harm them."
    "Nay. 'Twill make them free. 'Twill
give them more power than ye've ever considered. Think on this—yer
brother, the shifter—"
    Toren froze. Col.
    "If ye gave in to the full potential of
the magic we could wield between us, it would flow through the
entire clan, as yer clan’s magic flows to you. Yer brother could
hold another form for several nights on end, not groveling just to
hold shape for the mere hours that exhausts him. All the shifters
could. And think of the attributes for yer seers and summoners, the
water-called and moon-touched. Notwithstanding the power ye'd
acquire yerself unrestrained as a sorcerer. Do ye not desire to
feel that strength run through ye? I do not understand why ye
resist our blending of magic. 'Twould make us both stronger, more
potent. ‘Twould make the