How long until the sun fell?
Minutes, maybe. The pink sky had turned as red as blood.
‘Ezer.’
Now the whisper came from her right.
She spun, eyes wide, for it had never been so hard to follow. As if it were coming from every direction all at once.
Another crack.
‘Move,’ Arawn mouthed. He looked back at the group, narrowing his eyes. ‘Now.’
He’d only made it two steps ahead of her when the wind whispered, ‘Down! Get down!’
She didn’t hesitate.
She dove, narrowly avoiding the monster that suddenly swept from the treetops, its claws aimed to kill.
A shadow wolf.
She slammed against Arawn, wrapping her arms around his middle. Her weight alone wasn’t enough to topple him, but his body seemed to drop on instinct.
She felt the whoosh of cold air over her head as the shadow wolf just barely missed them.
Felt thesnagas its awful black claws swiped through her hood instead of Arawn’s neck.
The prince hit the snow and rolled, his strong arms wrapped around her until they settled.
‘Stay down!’ he growled.
He practically slung her from him as he came back up to his feet, his sword already out. His muscles had hardened like honed steel, the warrior she’d imagined him to be.
And the wolf …
Ezer watched in horror as it slid and whirled around in the snow, then threw back its snout and howled.
The sound gave wings to her panic. She could barely breathe as a howl answered from behind her, and through the trees …
Oh gods, oh gods.
Another shadow wolf.
It was canine in shape, with membranous, bat-like wings sprouting from its muscular shoulders. Its limbs were elongated, as if they had stretched to twice the size of a normal wolf. Its dark fur practically rippled, as if it were truly made of shadows. She could just barely see the forest through its body … and yet it was a solid creature before her, its enormous jagged claws digging into the snow.
She couldn’t even gasp in terror as she stared at the very creature that had killed her mother and father and left its calling card on Ezer’s face.
The world swam in and out of focus.
‘Minder!’
Her mind snapped back into existence as Arawn tossed something at her feet.
A small silver dagger.
‘Word of advice?’ Arawn said over his shoulder. ‘Go for the throat.’
He whispered something – an invocation – and the runes upon his own blade suddenly flared to life.
