I throw both hands forward and blast Goddess Ourea off her feet with everything I have. She vanishes into the storm-torn sky with a scream of fury and disbelief, her silver robes streaming behind her as she’s flung into the howling wind like a leaf in a hurricane. A black tear appears in the sky above us, reality itself splitting open, and I watch as it pulls her struggling form inside despite her desperate attempts to resist. The tear stitches itself closed with a sound like thunder, leaving no trace that she was ever here.
I don’t have time to wonder whether she’s dead or merely banished, because the ground shakes violently beneath my feetas a new wave of enemies pour from the snow drifts around me. These are different, massive, hulking beasts with pale, shaggy fur and glowing eyes like coals. Their jaws are easily as large as a bear’s, filled with teeth designed for rending flesh from bone.
“Fuck!” I shout as the first one lunges at me with supernatural speed. I dive and roll, the creature’s claws missing my head by mere inches.
Another beast swipes at me with a massive paw, its claws catching my shoulder and tearing through leather and skin alike. Pain screams through my body like liquid fire, and I stagger backward, feeling warm blood begin to soak through my torn clothing.
Exhausted and bleeding, I summon ice to my hands once more, shaping the frozen water into sharp, deadly blades that gleam like crystal in the strange light.
The wounded beast roars in fury and leaps again, its massive bulk blotting out the sky. I move as quickly as my flagging body allows, driving both ice blades up into its gut with all my remaining strength.
It collapses on top of me like a tidal wave of hot blood and rank fur, its massive weight crushing me into the snow. The smell of death and animal musk fills my nostrils as I struggle to breathe under the crushing weight.
I crawl free from beneath the corpse, now covered head to toe in blood and god knows what other fluids, but I don’t stop moving. I can’t afford to stop. I fight through the pain and exhaustion and bone-deep terror that I won’t make it through this trial alive. I fight because I don’t know how to do anything else anymore. Because survival has become my only religion, and I worship at its altar with everything I have left.
Suddenly, as if someone has thrown a switch, everything stops. The remaining enemies simply vanish like smoke, leaving me panting and gasping in the sudden, eerie silence. I turn ina slow circle, every muscle tensed for the next attack, unsure of what fresh horror might be coming for me next.
That’s when the voice returns, calm and final and somehow satisfied.
“You have found yourself in the crucible of battle.
You have reflected on your past failures and present strength.
You have accepted your losses and chosen to move forward.
Now reclaim the power that was always meant to be yours.”
The clouds above us part like curtains being drawn back, and a single, brilliant sunbeam cuts through the sky and slams directly into my chest. The impact is sudden and overwhelmingly painful, lifting me completely off my feet and suspending me in the air, but I don’t cry out or beg for mercy. Instead, I grit my teeth and let the power wash over me and through me like a river of molten gold.
The light buries itself deep into my soul, and I can feel it etching something permanent over my heart, the fourth and final rune, the mark that declares me complete. Another rune burns itself into my arm, sealing my magic forever. The trial is finished. I have passed through fire and blood and emerged victorious.
I float there, suspended in the golden light, feeling utterly complete and whole for the first time in my life. Every wound heals, every ache fades, every drop of exhaustion burns away in the face of this divine restoration. When the light finally recedes, I’m gently placed back on my feet, still tired and bloodstained and barely standing, but fundamentally changed.
For a moment, I think it’s truly over. I turn toward where I last saw the others, hoping desperately that the way back to them is now clear, when a shimmering portal splits the air directly in front of me.
Queen Lucelle steps through the magical gateway, resplendent in a flowing robe of deep crimson and bone white that seems to move with a life of its own. A retinue of soldiers appears at her back. Her dark eyes find mine immediately, and her perfect lips curve into a smile that promises nothing but pain.
Behind her, my father is dragged into view by invisible hands, his body bound in heavy iron shackles around his neck, wrists, and ankles. The metal is clearly enchanted, glowing with runes that suppress his fae magic. His tired eyes widen with shock and desperate love when he sees me standing there. He tries to speak, his mouth opening to form words of warning or comfort, but Lucelle raises one elegant hand and silences him with casual cruelty.
Her voice drips with pure malice and venom as she looks directly at me, her smile widening to show perfect white teeth.
“Kill her.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SAM
We make it to our feet but it’s no use. The barrier, force field, or whatever the fuck this impenetrable wall is, has completely barred us from entry. The surface shimmers, cold and unyielding, refusing to give even an inch.
My wolf’s instinct is to throw my body against it, use my claws, teeth, anything to get through it. The beast inside me snarls and paces, demanding action, demanding we tear through whatever stands between us and our mate. I growl in frustration, the sound ripping from my throat raw and animalistic. Almost plummeting to my death stops me though. It stops all of us. The force with which we were knocked back, sliding uncontrollably across the ice-slicked stone, has us all pacing several feet away from the damn thing. My muscles coil tight, ready to launch myself forward again, but the memory of that sickening drop into nothingness keeps my feet planted.
“Dammit,” Locke hisses, pulling at his locs with one hand, while the other holds his blade at his side. The weapon trembles slightly, not from cold, but from the barely contained fury radiating off him in waves. He stares beyond the wall tothe battle taking place before our eyes, his gaze tracking every movement, every flash of magic. “She’s in there alone.”
Rue’s voice is quieter, but no less urgent. “Why wraiths? There’s too many. What kind of trial is this? This promises no end but death.” His inner joker completely absent, replaced by genuine terror that makes my stomach clench. Even Rue, who treats everything like a game, recognizes the impossibility of what we’re witnessing.
I growl low and guttural again, my wolf shifts below my skin, my bones moving painfully underneath as they threaten to reshape themselves. The transformation pulls at me, demanding I let it take over, but I hold it together, fighting against him with everything I have. He doesn’t give two shits about what happens to us, he wants to fight for our mate, consequences be damned. Beyond the barrier, chaos reigns supreme. Wraiths shriek through the air like black fire given form, their voices a symphony of death that makes my ears ring. Bolts of magic light up the mountaintop like a battlefield of gods, brilliant flashes of gold and silver, and deep, angry red painting the snow in violent colors.
In the center of it all is Esme, fighting for her life alone.
