I pull out my own blade, gripping the hilt tightly, but I still can’t see what he’s looking at.
Another screech pierces the air and an enormous creature lands in the center of the snowy field along the left side of the road.
I can’t quite process what I’m seeing—it’s like a small dragon, or maybe a very large eagle. Its body seems reptilian, but feathers cover parts of its legs and torso, and a hooked beak juts from its face like a bird of prey.
Fox raises his sword and runs straight toward the creature. It’s yellow eyes narrow on him and it screeches again, the sound vibrating through my chest as it raises enormous wings and rears back, poised to strike.
Fox lunges, his sword arcing through the air. I hold my breath, but the wyvern twists away with surprising agility, dancing backward on clawed feet. Fox pivots to swing again justas the wyvern launches itself skyward, wings beating furiously as it circles low overhead. I watch in horror as it wheels around midair, tucks its wings, and dives straight at Fox.
Without thinking, I thrust my hands forward, channeling magic through my fingertips. A violent gust erupts from my palms, catching the creature mid-dive. The wind slams into its body, throwing it backward through the air.
It tumbles, wings splayed awkwardly, before crashing to the ground several yards away. Fox doesn’t hesitate. He sprints toward the dazed creature, sword raised high, and brings the blade down against the creature’s flank.
The wyvern screams, the sound vibrating through my skull until my teeth ache, but it manages to take flight again. I track its movement as it dives again, this time aiming straight for me.
I try to follow its path but can’t see properly with the sun directly behind it, turning the creature into nothing more than a dark silhouette against blinding light.
Panicking, I thrust my hands forward and release another burst of magic. The force hits the wyvern, but also catches Fox, and he hits the frozen ground with a dull thud.
The wyvern screeches, and this time a jet of fire erupts from its mouth, the heat searing the air inches from my face. Fox swears again and scrambles to his feet beside me. I watch in horror as another stream of flame shoots toward him, but he rolls to the side with impossible grace. In one fluid motion, he lunges forward, his sword arcing through the air with deadly precision. I flinch as the blade connects, slicing the wyvern’s head clean from its body. The massive corpse tips over, hitting the frozen ground with an enormous crash that shakes the ground.
I run over to Fox. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you,” I say, my heart still racing from the fight.
“No,” he pants, bent slightly at the waist, “that was helpful. You stunned it.”
Something warm flutters in my chest at his words. I’m startled by how pleased I am to hear him praise me, even after everything that happened. I shouldn’t care what he thinks anymore. I shouldn’t want his approval. But I do.
I want to say something, but before I can we’re interrupted by another yell.Now what?
Fox seems to be thinking the same thing I am because he groans as a group of six men dressed in armor march over the crest of the hill, the metal of their swords glinting in the sunlight. There’s a gray wolf bounding in front of them. It’s smaller than Fox’s wolf, but still nearly twice the size of any I’ve seen before.
Fox goes stiff beside me and the tension in his body makes my own muscles tighten in response.
“Soldiers?” I ask under my breath.
Fox makes a sharp motion with his hand and throws me a look, which can only mean:“Shut up.”
The group makes a beeline for us, walking slowly as if they’re not sure if we might try to attack them. They stop fifty yards away, facing us, and one of them steps forward. He stands there silently for a moment, then lowers his weapon. The others follow suit.
The whole thing is impossibly strange, and I can’t keep myself from leaning over to Fox. “What was that? Do you know them?”
Fox nods once, his jaw tight.
The gray wolf bounds up to us, circling with its nose low to the ground. Fox lowers his weapon and stands perfectly still as the animal sniffs at his boots. I hold my breath until the wolf turns and lopes back to the group.
“She’s the scout,” Fox tells me, nodding toward the gray wolf. “She said that if you raise your hands to use magic, she’ll bite them off.”
“Shesaid?” I question, my eyebrows rising.
Fox taps his temple with two fingers, and my eyes widen. He must be communicating with them telepathically, which can only mean that all of them are shifters.
“Did you hear me?” Fox says, his eyes fixed on mine.
“About the hands? Yes.”
“They’re not exaggerating,” he stresses. “I wouldn’t let them do it, but it would be easier for everyone if…well, it would be better if you just don’t move.”
“Got it.” I let my hands hang loosely at my sides.
