He appeared at my side, panting. “N-no. There’s too much . . . I can’t . . .”
Blood snaked down his arms from where debris must have sliced his skin. But he pulled the pathetically small knife I’d trained him with from his belt and crouched low.
“They won’t take us, Kiera. I won’t let them,” he said.
My heart stuttered. I’d known this boy a handful of days, and he was willing to die trying to save us? There was no way he could fight two Shadow-Wolves and live. Even I would be hard-pressed?—
I froze.
I couldn’t fight them either. Renwell had been very clear—never interfere with my Wolves.
But had Renwell ordered them to spare me, should they happen upon me? Or had he assumed I wouldn’t be anywhere near them on my mission?
No.The Wolves had hunted us, cornered us. They meant to take us. But I refused to be that woman who died begging for a life. I would die fighting for it. For both of our lives. And this time, I had the knives to do it.
I exhaled slowly and untied my cloak before tossing it aside. The Wolves didn’t even seem to breathe as I unsheathed two knives.
“Ruru, when I say run, you run.”
His head swiveled toward me, taking in my knives. “Wh-what? No, Kiera! They will kill you! Or take you! They’ve taken my friends, my brother?—”
I thrust him behind me, flipping one knife to grasp the tip. My best chance was to take one Wolf down before dealing with the other.
“Ready?” I whispered to Ruru, bouncing on the balls of my feet.
The Wolves dropped to identical crouches, their blades lifted.
The left or the right?
Sweat rolled down my cold neck.
Whatever happened in the next few moments would stain my soul or take it.
The one on the left shifted the tiniest bit, tracking Ruru.
My arm lashed out like a whip. Silver streaked, and the Wolf fell backward, my knife in his throat.
The world suddenly felt made of glass, fragile and silent.
And the Wolf’s body hitting the ground shattered it.
Ruru shouted as the other Wolf charged me.
I barely avoided his first swing. He slashed at my ribs. I pivoted and seized his fist, driving my second knife to his neck.
But he whirled and kicked me in the stomach. I flew backward, landing in a heap. My knife clattered somewhere out of reach. But our positions had switched.
Ruru stepped forward as if he were going to take my place, but I struggled to my feet and shoved him. “Run, you idiot!” His footsteps raced back the way we’d come.
I pulled out two more knives as the Wolf attacked. I blocked his strike, and my knife shattered with that same sickening shriek of metal. Like Maz’s axe.
He stabbed again. I dropped and rolled out of reach. I flung my knife, aiming for his neck. The surest kill.
He twisted at the last moment, my knife simply grazing him. A low hiss came from behind the mask. My mind blanked with fear. I had one knife left.
My fingers plunged into my boot just as he charged. I wrenched to the side, catching his wrist. I slammed my elbow into his lungs and my heel into his groin. His grip slackened. I kicked his legs out from under him while using his weight and momentum to fling him over my shoulder.
I ripped the knife out of my boot and drove into the nearest bit of him—the wrist of his knife hand.
