Lair of the Lion

mother. Where the entity slept and awakened and orchestrated the hatred and fear that perpetuated atrocity on the entire valley.
    She took a deep breath and forced it through her lungs. And she inhaled the entity's sour odor. Malevolence. Hatred. Pure evil. She was in its territory, and it was feeding Nicolai's rage, feeding his weakness, his utter belief in his destiny that he would kill the woman he loved above all others.
    "We are not alone out here, Nicolai," she announced, looking to the others who had followed them. Even Francesca had arrived, alarmed, out of breath, frightened by her brother's roaring. "If you're very still, you'll feel it. The influence is subtle, but it can't hide the surge of power when it manipulates us." The needles in her skin flexed, and she felt hot breath blast her face, the warm trickle of blood down her arm that would only serve to call to the beast.

    "It has influenced everyone to act differently than they normally would, building on their failings. Failings we all have. Jealousy, hurt, anger, distrust." She looked at Rolando.
    "Pride. What else would cause a man to leave his wife to a death sentence, a wife he loves.
    Even poor Sophia, a woman who by all accounts loved her people and her husband, who certainly loved her children. She never would have cursed them for all time without something evil compelling her to do so." She was alone, fighting an unseen enemy who was swelling in power and gloating at her inadequacy. She looked around her at the faces white with shock from Don DeMarco's orders. No one seemed to comprehend what she was saying. "Don't you see it? None of us would do these things." She was unashamedly pleading with them. Pleading with Nicolai.
    Francesca rushed to her side and caught her hand in a show of solidarity.
    Rolando took several steps toward Nicolai. "My wife is your famiglia. Your cousin," he reminded him. "You would see more DeMarco blood soak into the ground?" His hands were knotted into tight fists at his side. Fury had stolen into his eyes.
    "If you have no mercy, Captain Bartolmei, for your own wife, why would I as the don have mercy for a woman who betrayed me?" Don DeMarco snapped his fingers, and the guard obediently forced Theresa to her knees.
    She screamed in terror again, tears burning down her cheeks.
    "This will not happen," Bartolmei objected, his hand on his sword. "If you're so eager for blood, take mine."
    "No!" Violante protested from where she was huddled in Sergio's arms. "I'm the guilty one. I provoked her."
    Fury swept through Nicolai, pure, undiluted rage. He threw back his head and roared at the defiance of his orders. The sound set the lions in the valley roaring until the night was filled with the brutal, primitive sound. His people scattered in all directions. Nicolai spun in a circle, scratching a deep line down Isabella's arm as he thrust her away from him. His long hair haloed his head and fell around his shoulders and back in a wild mane.
    "Nicolai." Isabella whispered his name aloud in despair. She watched his powerful shape shimmer, the white mist swirling greedily around him, devouring the man, revealing the beast.
    The lion stood in the center of the courtyard, a magnificent animal, enormous, heavily muscled, the shaggy mane adding to its bulk. Its eyes were burning with hunger, a dangerous, wild warning to those in the courtyard.
    "Dio, it's happening again! I'll have to call the lions!" Francesca cried out, and she buried her face in her hands.
    "No!" Isabella's voice was a whip of authority. She lifted her head and walked toward the crouching beast. Her arms were spread out away from her sides in a gesture of supplication.
    "I love you, Nicolai. It isn't going to take you from me. If you kill Theresa, we have nothing. It knows that."
    The lion swung its massive head toward her, eyes flaming with the need to kill. The mouth opened, revealing huge, sharp teeth. Another roar split the air. Above their heads, the dark clouds split and poured down rain.
    Isabella lifted her face to the drops, allowing the rain to bead over her face and wash away the terror of the moment. She looked back and met the lion's focused stare without flinching. Her heart was pounding, her mouth dry, but there was a sense of peace deep inside her. "I won't see you as the beast, Nicolai. I won't."
    The lion shuddered and sank into a crouch, staring at her without recognition. Francesca stepped up beside Isabella. "I won't see you as the beast