"You have to. It's the only way."
The doppelgänger struck.
Shadow-claws raking toward them both. Tristan rolled, taking the brunt on his shoulder. Pain flared white-hot. He came up in a crouch, Maren cradled against his chest, putting himself between her and the construct.
"Romantic," it said. "Stupid, but romantic. You could shift. Could fight me properly. But you won't. Because then you'd have to put her down. And you're terrified that if you let go, she dies."
"I'm terrified of a lot of things." Tristan's voice stayed level. "You're not one of them."
"Brave words. Empty words." The construct circled. "Face it, tiger. You're going to watch her die. Again. Just like you watched your first mate die. History repeating because you're too slow, too weak, too late."
The words landed like claws. Tristan's grip on Maren tightened fractionally.
"That's right." The doppelgänger smiled. "I know all about her. Your dead wife. The mob that burned your house. How you were away playing soldier while she screamed for you." It leaned closer. "Does Maren know? Does she understand she's just a replacement? A second chance you don't deserve?"
"Stop talking." Tristan's voice dropped to something barely human.
"Or what? You'll attack? You'll shift? You'll do what you should've done two minutes ago instead of standing here holding a dying witch like that's going to save her?"
Maren's hand found his chest. Pressed flat over his heart.
Her shadows moved. Weak. Flickering. But present.
They spread across his skin, wrapping around his arms, his shoulders, his neck. Not attacking. Not draining. Anchoring.
"Put me down," she whispered.
"No."
"Trust me."
Her eyes met his. Silver reflecting amber-gold. Understanding passing between them without words.
He lowered her to the ice gently. Her shadows clung to him even as he straightened, releasing her body but not the connection.
The doppelgänger laughed. "Finally seeing sense."
Tristan shifted.
The transformation was faster this time. Violent. The tiger erupted with rage that had been building since he'd found her gone that morning, since he'd felt her calling, since he'd realized he was too late again.
He hit the construct with everything he had.
Claws. Teeth. Weight. Fury.
The doppelgänger shrieked, tried to dissolve. But Maren's shadows held it solid, wrapping around the construct like chains. Binding it. Keeping it real long enough for Tristan's attack to land.
Tristan's jaws closed around what passed for the creature's throat. He bit down hard, tasting shadow and blood-magic and wrongness that made his tiger recoil.
He didn't let go.
The doppelgänger thrashed, clawed, screamed. Its form flickered wildly. Destabilizing. Breaking apart.
"You can't—" it choked. "Can't kill?—"
Tristan bit harder.
The construct exploded into smoke.
