“Shit—” She lunged, catching the back of Kaelith’s collar and hauling hard.
He crashed into her, the force knocking them both back as translucent fangs, each the length of her arm, slammed shut in the space he’d just occupied. The sound clapped the air like breaking bone, and momentum spun her half-around until her shoulder struck something solid—Fenn’s chest.
His arm came around without looking, bracing her and Kaelith both before setting them back on their feet. To their front, the shimmer of a spectral serpent hung for half a beat before fading into nothing, leaving the air colder, as if its absence had dragged the heat from the space.
“What—?” Her jaw hung open, eyes focused on Skarn as his body spasmed.
The movement rolled through him in jerks, arms and stumps wrenching out of socket as something beneath his skin forced its way through. Grey, splotchy scales broke the surface, tearing away the paler layer in wet strips that dropped to the dirt at his feet. The shift came in beats—swelling grotesquely, then stretching, each extension longer than the last.
By the time the last shreds dropped away, what faced them was no longer man at all—only a hulking, misshapen serpent, coils knotting around themselves as its head lowered. Fangs like polished ivory caught the dim light, bared in a snarl that belonged to something far older and far hungrier than the man they’d been fighting.
Kaelith glanced over his shoulder at Rynna. “It seems the young fool has taken on this particular aspect of my old self, as well, though I doubt he can control it.”
Rynna’s mind flashed to the obsidian serpent at the Ascension, her fists clenching. “Of course, that was you.”
“Yes, pet.” He stepped back as the serpent’s head rose forty feet over them. “But my point stands. We should end this quickly before he completely loses control.”
Fenn glanced down at the long knife in his hand, turning it once between his fingers. “I think I need a bigger blade.”
Kaelith chuckled, but when Fenn didn’t so much as twitch a smile, the sound died flat in his throat.
“You already have what you need, my wolf.” Rynna turned, connecting the dots that had been left like breadcrumbs over their life together.
She’d suspected since that first drop she’d tasted—sensing the faint, wild note thrumming beneath the Veilroot haze. But she hadn’t recognized it then for what it was. Not fully. Not until now, seeing Kaelith so brazenly claim his bloodline, fighting Skarn.
Fenn would need to do the same to face whatever was behind that barrier.
Her hand rose, catching his jaw, guiding him down to her lips.
“Find the wolf within you,” she murmured against his mouth, “the one whose eye sees truth from lie. The ones your fool Elders tried to bury all these years.”
His breath came harder, and she bit, skin parting under her teeth, the salt-iron bloom spilling across her tongue.
His answer was soft at first—a single note buried deep within him. Then it stretched, raw and aching, pulling at the edges of her skin. His pupils widened, the warm brown of the left eye bleeding into molten silver to match the right once more until his gaze blazed, pinning her where she stood.
His fingers flexed, as muscles grew and joints popped, until blades of bone slid free—each half a foot long—twitching once before settling at his sides.
“How’s that?” She kissed the tips, feeling the cool, unnerving smoothness of the newly formed weapons.
“It will do.” Fenn flexed his hands, lips tugging into a grim smile as he glanced at Kaelith. “How do we bring it down?”
The serpent shrieked, the sound splitting the air as yellow venom trailed down in long threads from its fangs.
“Piece by piece, I imagine.” Kaelith licked his lips, looking at them, almost savoring the moment.
But the peace was soon broken. Just like that, the serpent launched at them, sudden as a wall collapsing.
Chapter forty-eight
Fennwasalreadymoving,dodging the monster’s head as claws flashed in a brutal cross-swipe, ripping into the thick column of its neck. A wet spray burst from the gashes, black and steaming, but the serpent only reared higher, hissing, its weight shaking the stone beneath them.
Rynna dropped into the space left in its wake, her blades crossing once before she dove under the shadow of its body. The stench of rot thickened in her throat as she drove both swords upward into the softer seam between scales—deep enough that the vibration of its heartbeat rattled through the hilts into her hands.
Hot, black gore burst over her knuckles, coating her arms to the elbow. And the monster’s body buckled overhead, pressing downward in a crushing wave of muscle.
“Fuck!” She grunted, yanking both blades in a sharp cross-motion as she blinked out of the kill zone, reappearing several paces away, gore still dripping from her steel.
On the other side, Kaelith moved in a wide arc, his body low, before leaping to clear the rise of the snake’s body and dropping onto the thick ridge of muscle between its coils. Then, his claws buried into the monster’s scales, clean up to the wrists, before raking down in brutal, unbroken lines. Tearing into the beast's back, he carved deep gouges across blotchy, riding the thrashing beast until the serpent twisted sideways, and his claws seemed to catch.
