My stomach twists as Ashwing groans, and I wrap my arms around her trembling neck. “Please,” I breathe into her mane. “Just hold on. You’re strong. You’ve always been strong.”
“Fire!” Keiren snaps. “Come back. That’s an order!”
But I ignore him, moving to Ashwing’s rear as she lets out another pained whinny.
My breath catches—two tiny white legs protrude from her. Her whole body tightens with another strangled cry. I grab the foal’s legs and pull.
But the foal doesn’t budge. Its shoulders are stuck.
“No! No, come on…” I gasp, bracing myself against the blood-slick earth. By now, the ground is soaked, and Ashwing’s flanks are trembling uncontrollably.
She’s too weak to keep pushing. If I don’t pull the foal out, they’ll both die.
Another howl cuts through the trees, and this time, I see a pair of sickly yellow eyes flash through the tall grass beforedisappearing again. The pack is circling us, waiting for the opportune moment to charge. I need to move fast.
Brimstone spins, keeping us at his back and facing the threat with a warning cry.
I slide my hands forward, deeper, trembling. My fingers find something soft. Delicate.
Wings.
Oh, stars. The foal has wings.
I gently pinch them closed, whispering a prayer, and pull again.
This time, the foal slides free.
A white colt spills onto the mossy earth, slick and blinking, tiny wings twitching against his sides. Ashwing turns her head and begins licking him clean, a low whinny breaking from her chest like a sob of relief.
I stagger back, awe stealing my breath.
He has wings. He’s… a Pegasus.
But I don’t have time to marvel. A vicious snarl tears through the clearing, and a wolf lunges for me—only to be cut in two by the force of a blade.
Keiren. He’s come to rescue us. Beyond the boundary.
His body lurches. He clutches his chest as thick black veins explode across his skin like molten cracks in stone. Ignoring it, he swings at the next wolf, then the next.
I can only watch as at least a dozen starving wolves close in on us. Brimstone viciously kicks one that strays too close, stomping it into the ground. Another circles wide, but Aetherion bursts from the trees, silver coat flashing, driving the beast back with stomping hooves and snapping teeth.
Still bleeding and shaking, Ashwing scrambles to her feet, standing protectively over her foal, who has yet to even open his eyes.
A weight crashes into my chest. I scream.
“No!” Keiren roars as I grappled wildly, trying to keep the beast’s maw away from my face with one arm as my other hand scrambles for my dagger.
I find it, yank it free, and drive deep it into the beast’s gut.
The wolf slumps just as Keiren barrels forward. He grabs its limp body and flings it aside like it weighs nothing.
Then he reaches for me, dragging me upright. I don’t realize I’m covered in blood until he steadies me, his eyes wide with fury and something else. Something wild.
“We need to get back to the Forest,” he pants. “I don’t know how much longer I can—”
The next wolf launches through the trees. Keiren meets it mid-air, blade flashing. The second leaps at us from the side. Keiren pivots and drives steel through its ribs.
Blood. Snarls. Screams.
