Zendedari sat on the floor, aware of the wall at his back, the woman lying so still in his arms. Dark, violent emotions swirled; his body shook with the need to kill his enemies. A ribbon of sanity moved through his mind, caught his attention. Both intruders had been familiar to him.
Someone he knew and trusted.
A silent snarl revealed his sharp fangs.
Betrayers sometimes ran in packs.
They thought him weak, but he was faster than all but the ancient ones. He had honed his fighting skills, his mental powers. They would not torture and kill his woman.
Caitlin.
Her name was a soft, clear breeze blowing gently through his mind. Caitlin.
