“I know you,” she whispered, leaning in close. She twisted the dagger, and he growled at the shot of pain. Before he could strike her down, she was gone, darting through the market. There were gasps as the people around spotted him and the knife and the blood dripping down his front. He paid them no mind, his gaze locked on thefabrics she had worn that now fluttered through the air, the only remnant of her.
Blade still in his stomach, he followed her in a burst of shadows.
The witch fucking stabbed him. How could he have let that happen?
He should have snuck up on her and slit her throat before she even had a chance to see him.Hewas at an advantage here, he reminded himself. He could see her aura. He could portal. His shadows were far stronger than hers.
And he had learned something critical in this interaction—without a storm present, she was unable to use her powers. He wouldn’t let her surprise him again.
There she was. He saw her, scurrying across the dunes, attempting to hide behind them.
With a snarl, he shot a shadow at her back and watched her fall. She slid through the desert with the force, sand sputtering, until she finally went still. Now was his chance.
He portaled to her with his shadows sharpened, ready to end her once and for all. But before he could, she fell through the sand as if swallowed.
And above, the sky swirled. He rolled his eyes. This ridiculous world with its storms that were called to any shred of power. Right now, this storm was called to his own.
His shadows seeped around him like spilled ink as he turned in all directions, searching for her. In a flash, she surfaced, surrounded by flames.
Right. She had Sunling powers because of Oro.
“He loves you,” Grim snorted. “What a fool.”
Her eyes blazed as intensely as the flames around her as she shot a stream of fire right toward him. His shadows raced forward to meet them. They converged in between them, hissing, creating a blinding silver light. “Youlove me,” she replied, teeth gritted with effort, and he laughed.
“Do you feel any love, Wildling?” he said.
That devastated expression returned. He might not have felt anything other than aggravation toward her, but he could sense an all-encompassing love in her. He refused to believe it could be for him—it must have been for the Sunling king.
“My name...” she said, in ragged gasps, “is Isla.” That aura of hers surged as she dug deeper into her powers. As those flames grew.
Isla. A name that sounded like the hiss of a snake. Fitting.
Her name didn’t matter, though. She would be dead in mere moments.
He aimed another stream of shadows toward her, but she met it with a surge of silver, glimmering energy. Both of her arms were extended and shaking. But she stood strong, in a stance not so different from his own.
Just as he was about to shoot forward, take her off guard and hope for an opening, the sky grumbled. Swirled.
She looked up. Her power didn’t falter for a moment, but he felt it—the moment she was about to leap. She had used the portals to escape from him before.
Not this time.
A funnel dropped from the skies, as if drawn to her energy, and he shot forward, hitting her just as it swept them both away.
They catapulted through the air together, colliding and rolling, until they were released. Then, they were crashing onto soft snow instead of scraping sand. He landed on his back. She was atop him.
Her face was just an inch from his. Her lips parted, and his eyes tracked the movement. He swallowed, momentarily frozen. She was even prettier up close. Like this, he could see how full her mouth was, and all the shades of green in her eyes. He noticed a constellation of freckles across her nose.
She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.
She was also his enemy.
His shadows wrapped around her throat, but she flew backwards before they could take hold.
Snow raged around them on this mountaintop, frost hitting his face. As he searched for her, Grim had portaled all across this world, and he had seen what Cronan had done to it. This place had been ripped to shreds. He had turned most of it to ash. The parts that remained were brutal. Dangerous.
This peak was no different. The mountain beneath them was constantly moving, breaking and reforming, freezing and unfreezing, as if it was trying to fit itself back together.
