~RYLAND'S POV~
She was on her knees now.
Eyes glowing. Fangs out. Both hands pressed flat against the stone floor with her knuckles white from the force of it. Her whole body was shaking.
Then her hand snapped.
The sound was wrong, a crack that didn't belong in a room with people in it.
*Arrrghhhhhhhh." she screamed, raw and loud, and looked straight at me.
"Ry… Ryland… help me." Her voice broke on my name.
I was already moving toward her. "You have to fight this, Lyra."
"I can't." She was gasping, barely getting the words out between breaths.
"I can't do it."
"You can," I said. I crouched in front of her, close enough that she had to look at me. "I know you can. Stay with us."
Her breathing was getting worse. Sweat across her face and neck, soaking through the green gown that had looked so composed three hours ago. Silver fur had started appearing at her forearms, faint, like a suggestion, and then pulling back, then appearing again.
