Souldancer (Soul Cycle Book 2) Read Online Free

weaponless, Xander readied himself as best he could. He was too spent to run. His only chance was to remain still and hope that the threat passed him by. Almost unconsciously, he called upon his power to affect motion, wrapping himself in subtle layers of invisible protection. The act mainly served to ease his panic. Turning a clumsy spear thrust was simple; surviving now would be a miracle.
    A lupine head leered down from the crest. It signaled to the pack with a howl that shook Xander’s bones. Black eyes studied him with calculating menace that banished all doubt of the wolf’s depraved intelligence. Xander lay transfixed like a mouse before a serpent, but the beast’s gaze proved less captivating than the three raw slashes that traversed the orbit of its right eye from brow ridge to cheekbone.
    The time for stealth had passed. Xander struggled to free his legs from the sucking sand as the wolf charged toward him with slavering bloodlust.
    Xander was sure that the man bounding down the opposite dune was an illusion born of thirst. The green-cloaked stranger hurtled down the slope, touching the sand only once to channel his momentum into a rolling leap that landed him before the wolf.
    The beast sprang. Something like a mirror catching a red sunset flickered in the stranger’s hand. The stench of burned hair stung Xander’s nose. He watched in awe as black blood gushed from the wolf’s thick neck and shoulders. It belted an awful, despairing roar.
    Xander’s amazement turned to shock as the wolf became a man wearing leather and furs. The two-skinned beast contorted ghoulishly in midair, slammed into the far dune, and lay still.
    Staccato screeching filled the sky. The stranger leapt up the dune face toward the hideous cry’s source and vanished over the crest. He never looked back.
    Xander gaped in disbelief. Was that a malakh? Does God protect me though his people cast me out?
    A second wolf came galloping along the valley floor. It lunged at Xander, gnashing its snaggled maw.
    The monster’s sudden charge left Xander too startled to do more than will the wolf away. The creature balked, checked by an unseen force that made the air before it thick as rock.
    Xander’s shock yielded to deep-seated fear. His power had slipped the bonds he’d carefully laid upon it for years. I must control it, he thought, knowing the risks of failure.
    The wolf raged against the pounding force that kept it from its prey. Xander watched in dismay as first one; then another forepaw twisted itself into a clawed arm that lurched forward and planted itself in the sand. With growing speed, the beast dragged itself toward him.
    Mortal terror gripped the young Nesshin. The power begged to slip its leash, but he dared not let go. He fell to his knees, and the beast’s rank breath stung his gasping lungs.
    Xander threw the last ounce of will not needed to contain his gift at the maddened wolf. The blow sent the monster skidding back, but it was an empty victory. With his strength gone, his foe would finally devour him.
    Tribal lore held that God called to those near death. Xander just heard distant chittering followed howling—multiple savage voices raised in alarm.
    The wolf’s conical ears perked up while its dark eyes held Xander in a timeless Void. Its tongue brushed across black lips. Then it turned and raced up the dune, once again on four legs.
    Xander felt as if he were underwater. His eyes lolled heavily in a head packed with mud. Shaking, he tried to stand, and his muscles cried out in protest. Somehow he gained his feet and fled.

3
    Damus Greystone woke in his suite at the Date Palm, Medvia's best attempt a hostelry. He squinted at the plain wall clock and saw that it was noon—high time he made another escape attempt. Instead he sighed in resignation, burrowed under the clean-scented sheets, and went back to bed.
    But unwanted thoughts kept him awake. She could still be out there somewhere in the ruins of this world, yet here