This wolf represents everything Roman lost—his family, his wolf, his life. It represents his deepest fear. A fear he shared with me. How Crone even knows what Roman’s wolf looks like is beyond me.
I have only seconds now before the wolf finishes forming. It stands as high as Reaper, its head reaching my waist as it prowls back and forth on the other side of the cage, taking shape more slowly than Reaper’s form did.
I seek Roman across the distance.
He is very still, his shoulders tense, his eyes pure black, and his jaw clenched so hard that I’m sure his teeth must be cracking. The rapid rise and fall of his chest and the formation of multiple runes down his arms tell me he’s on the precipice of raging out.
I close my eyes and whisper his name. “Roman. Rune. Please forgive me.”
He blinks, refocuses on me, still breathing hard, and it breaks my heart to see his pain, as if he’s reliving his childhood nightmare over and over in flashes now.
It only fuels my anger, my hatred, that Crone has chosen this public place to force me to recreate Roman’s deepest trauma. The moment his family died.
His eyes meet mine across the distance, finally focusing on me, and his lips press together before he gives me a single, slow nod.
The permission I need to fight and kill this wolf.Hiswolf.
As if they sense his tension, my wolves draw in against Roman’s sides, pressing against his calves, swirling around him in a protective circle, giving him their support as a member of our pack.
I don’t have another second for self-doubt. I want this fight to be quick and clean. The crowd, Roman, my wolves—all of them fade into the background as I focus on every breath I take and every twitch of the bronzed wolf’s muscles, its snapping jaws, and the growls ripping from its throat.
It leaps at me, its claws slashing at my chest and its teeth aimed for my throat. I duck and roll, rapidly studying the way it moves as it flies over me, my new demon strength giving me added speed and agility to evade and observe.
I crouch as it spins back to me. I judge the way it favors its front right leg, noting the patch of blood it will run through, which could cause its left foot to slip a little.
As it leaps again, I throw myself to my left, hitting my stride at the exact moment that its paw slides in the blood and exposes its right side.
My power surges, the deepest fear striking through me—my own fear of failing, my fear of succeeding, and the fear I know Roman holds close to his heart: his fear of losing his family.
I slam my fist against the wolf’s heart, a perfectly aimed hit, pouring my dark power through my arm and straight into its chest.
Cold fear blasts against the wolf’s body, knocking it to the side, where it tumbles, slides across the bloody floor, and comes to rest against the cage wall.
I brace for retaliation, but the wolf remains still.
As still as in Roman’s memory.
I stopped its heart, killing it with fear, but it’s my heart that hurts.
Dropping to my knees beside it, I bow my head over its body, tears leaking from my eyes while I gather its head into my arms, pulling it up onto my knees and pressing my face against its soft cheek. Brushing its soft ears, I run my hand through its fur, smoothing out the coarse strands in the breeze that picks up around us.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, allowing my wolf to rise within me and our pack bond with Roman to fill my heart as I nudge my cheek against his wolf’s face.
Roman and I would have been two of a kind. Wolf-demons. My wolf would have loved his.
I stay like that for a long time, holding the wolf’s body close to mine, before I lift my eyes, seeking Roman across the distance, not afraid to let my tears fall down my cheeks.
He remains still, but the tension in his jaw has eased, his right hand resting on Ace’s head.
Ace is focused on Crone, his teeth bared at her, and I’m suddenly struck by the pure aggression in Ace’s violet eyes as he stares at the ancient woman as if she’s his next target.
It dawns on me that she could bemynext target, too.
For the first time since I found out I’m the Demon King’s daughter, I recognize without a doubt that the only way I’ll stay alive is to win the Elimination.
Crone is determined to kill all of us except for Arga.
The time for hoping to escape these trials is over. There is no escape for me. None.
