I turned and ran toward the forest instead of back toward reinforcements. It was a potentially deadly mistake, but I was thinking on my feet here.
I ducked under a low branch as I reached the tree line, then cut a sharp left, hoping his momentum would take him past me, farther into the brush. I needed some space and time to come up with a plan B, and this wasn’t the direction the enemies were coming from.
It didn’t work. He cut hard, dirt and leaf litter spraying out from under his paws as he kept right on my heels.
He left me no choice but to turn and face him, and my stomach tied itself in knots. At least one of us would take serious damage, andneither of uswould be okay with that when it was all over.
Goddess, please let us both be around to be miserable about this when it’s all over.I sent up one last, desperate prayer and spun, lashing out low with the sword that had the ability to lop off one of his paws.
He saw the strike coming and dodged, finally breaking stride and giving me a second to breathe. The sword in my hand pulsed angrily.
Did itwantto hit him?
A wave of affirmation was the only response, but I didn’t have time to ponder how utterly messed-up that was.
He lunged, maw open wide and fangs deadly sharp as he aimed for my throat.
I dove down, rolling underneath him with unnatural speed. I just barely missed his attack, a grave reminder that I might have been pulling my punches, but he wasn’t.
Somehow, I landed in a low crouch before he completed his spin to take another pass at me. I swung the sword, letting it bite into his unprotected flank.
The damn thing sizzled and smoked when it made contact, and Valens’s wolf yelped, limping backward for a second before falling to his uncut side.
Horror grabbed me by the throat, and I jumped back to my feet in a split second, darting to his side to make sure he hadn’t been mortally wounded. If the collar thought it was a killing blow, it would finish him off.
Bile rose up the back of my throat as I stared down at the freely bleeding wound. But then his fur began to recede, and bare human skin appeared in its place. The collar shifted with him, shrinking down to rest just below his human chin, too small now to slip off over his head.
To my surprise, he came through the change fully clothed, with his guardian sword in the sheath at his hip. Whoever made these collars put some heavy-duty magic on them to allow shifters to keep their possessions through the shift. The only thing that didn’t change was the flat hatred in his eyes. This man didn’t recognize me, but he did want to murder me.
He surged off the forest floor, sword drawn and arcing toward my neck before a mortal human could have processed that he’d moved.
Thankfully, I was no mere human. I dodged right, swinging my own sword up to block him with well-honed instincts.
The swords clashed together, and he frowned, staring in confusion at the point where they connected.
Was it working? I could only hope.
He shook his head, circling the tip of the blade around and trying to come in with a short jab, which I once again blocked. We circled and fought on, and each time our blades touched, it seemed to throw him. As if the magic in our blades combined was strong enough to dampen the effect of the collar.
It’s me, Brute. Come on, let me in!I sent mental words of encouragement, even though I had no idea if he could hear me. We hadn’t even tried mental communication before this, so I had no idea how it worked or if we had the ability yet.
Most couples needed the bonding bites before it kicked in, if it ever did. Not every pair got it. I tried anyway. Because I would be damned if I didn’t give saving him every piece of me.
We hadn’t come this far to lose our chance. Not before we really got to bond, to live, to love. It was too soon, and I refused to let him go.
So I fought him with every vicious trick in my maiden’s repertoire. Sweat dripped down my brow and into my eyes, but I dared not dash it away. I used fancy footwork, I used the trees to block him, I even threw in tactical rolls.
Nothing worked for long. It was as if he was computing and memorizing every move I had. But I had one more move, one last, deadly trick we were taught to save our charges.
The self-sacrifice.
I’d executed it once and only survived by the skin of my teeth and with the advanced magical medicine of dwarves afraid of an interspecies incident. This time, I knew there was no help coming. It was me and my man, to the death or to life.
Still, I had to try. If I could put enough force on the collar with the magical blade fast and hard enough, maybe it would break before it got a chance to harm him. Even now, the magical signatures I could see dancing over its surface taunted me.
I hummed a tune as I waited for an opening. I chose the soft, mindless, pacing song they taught us to help remember the swordsmanship forms. I refused to sing the death dirge this time. I had to focus on life, or we were both doomed. Still, the tune was a drumbeat in my blood that kept me on track. He reared back, readying for a great, chopping swing.
It was the opening I needed.
