“Stop hiding,” he hisses. “Give me a real challenge, fool girl. Let me show you what a true alpha looks like.” Another blast of flame surges forth. When it strikes the trunk, I hear the melody I’ve been waiting for. A hollow creaking.
I launch onto a large rock and from there leap onto the nearest tree, my paws springing off its trunk as they make contact. The momentum sends me higher, and I soar to an enormous boulder. Once again, I launch away as soon as I touch the surface and find myself even higher now as I leap toward the burning tree. Heat sears my paws as I touch the bark, but I press off with all my strength. As I do, I leave behind a burst of my own fire.
I tumble to the ground, my muscles screaming at the impact as I roll across the dirt. Ustrin tosses his head left and right, seeking where I’ve gone. Finally, he spots me.
The burning tree creaks louder, then a sound like lightning ripping overhead tears through the night.
Ustrin rushes toward me. But he isn’t fast enough.
The rotted tree comes tumbling down, pinning Ustrin beneath its flaming trunk in a tangle of rotting branches. His orange flames burn its base, but where I made contact, my tricolor fire glows and expands, creeping to where Ustrin is trapped.
I stand frozen as I watch, certain I’ll see Ustrin rise at any moment.
When I see no movement, I creep forward on silent paws. I find Ustrin in his seelie form, writhing beneath my flames as he tries to combat them with his own. The enormous trunk of the tree crosses his midsection, while his shoulder is speared into the earth below by a thick, sharp branch.
He catches my eye and lets out a laugh. “You think this means you’ve won? I can heal, remember? You can toss your pretty little flames at me all night, but you’ll run out of power long before I do. I’ll continue to heal and regenerate, and when I overcome your flames, I’ll kill you.”
“Submit to me as alpha,” I say, voice even.
He laughs again. “You’re out of your mind. I just explained I’m stronger than you. I can defeat you.”
“Submit to me as alpha,” I say again, louder now.
“You aren’t the alpha. That was nothing but a clever accident. I am far from defeated.”
“Submit.”
All amusement flees from his face, and he bares his teeth. “I will never submit to you. Even if you had the upper hand, I would rather die than submit.”
I study his face, contorted with effort as he continues to combat my fire lapping upon him from the tree. Just how his flames managed to damage me, my fire seems to do the same to him, blackening his bright scales.
My eyes then fall to his throat, the scales there still unmarred by my fire. In seelie form, I can only imagine his internal anatomy must be humanlike, the same way Aspen’s was when I performed his surgery. If that’s the case, I know exactly where to find his jugular vein.
I must admit Ustrin is right. He’s stronger than me. He’ll never submit to me and he will fight so long as he has breath and strength. The truth of what must be done is chilling, but the calm warmth in the back of my mind promises to carry the brunt of the burden. “That leaves me one choice,” I say.
With a lunge, I sink my sharp teeth into his scaly throat.
38
Sitting back on my haunches, I stare down into a moonlit stream, eyes locked on the white fox’s face staring back at me. Her flames have dissipated to a glow, leaving the blood coating the fur around her neck in clear view. Even her muzzle is smeared with it despite countless attempts to cleanse herself in the rushing waters. At least she managed to wash the taste of blood from inside her mouth.
My mouth,I correct myself.Me. That fox is me.
Something large appears on the other side of the stream. I heard it coming minutes ago, knew it was a stag before it appeared from behind the trees. My keen hearing is attuned to my surroundings, yet I can’t find it in me to care about a thing.
“Are you all right?” Aspen’s voice asks through the stag.
I keep my eyes trained on my reflection. “Did you find the body?”
Silence. Then, “Yes.”
Bile rises in my throat. If he found the body, then he saw a fae with its jugular torn out, left to bleed until his heart stopped beating. Bleed as my beautiful flames lapped over him.
“We must find your refugees,” I say.
“I already found them.” His voice is quiet, careful. Like it’s walking on glass.
“You found them?” I allow my eyes to flash up to him, grateful he wears his stag face. I’m not ready to see how his seelie form looks at me.
