“Just put it there,” he says, pointing to the counter closest to us.
Asmo narrows his gaze. “You don’t want to count it?”
“It looks enough,” the hybrid answers, refusing to look at us.
Asmo slides the outrageous amount onto the counter and reaches for the jar. The hybrid doesn’t even take the payment, just leaves it and shuffles back to his spot on the far wall. He turns his back to us once more, bent over whatever task he was working on when we first arrived.
Asmo eyes the jar, an herb-green paste inside. “This is the right thing?” The apothecarist nods his head. Asmo looks at me pointedly, then asks, “This is the Fae-imbued extract?”
“Yes.” Truth.
I nod and Asmo shrugs, then turns back toward the door. “Thank you,” I say over my shoulder, the hybrid’s tail swishing one last time as I shut the door behind me.
“Interesting male,” Asmo says as we traverse back down the path.
“A little odd, but can you blame him? His tail has probably made his life difficult. I’d live up here, too, if I were him.”
In the few moments we were inside, the sun dipped below the mountain, taking its light—and any remaining warmth—with it. I nearly trip over a fallen log, but Asmo’s hand is there to steady me.
When I look back up, my breath lodges in my throat. A figure emerges from behind a tree, head tilted and golden eyes so bright, they’re nearly luminescent. A witch, in all black. A Cursed wolf stands on each side of her. The undead wolves stare at us, rotten teeth bared. Ice crawls through my veins.
“Didn’t the Golden Family warn everyone not to be out past sunset?” she croons.
“Anything out past sundown is ours to play with,” a high-pitched voice calls behind us.
I whirl. Another black-leather witch stands before me. The wind gusts past us, but the witch’s snow-white hair remains eerily still.
My head throbs again. Asmo shouts, and a snarl comes from behind me. A sharp slice of pain erupts along my calf. I stagger and drop to my knees. The witch yanks me back up. Her hand wraps around my throat, sharp iron nails digging into my skin. Not long ago, Marik’s osseris had me pinned just like this.
Feet away, Asmo hurls black flames at the golden-eyed witch. He dodges a lunge from one of the Cursed wolves, then strikes it down with a slash of a sword made of flames.
“You shouldn’t have been out at night,” the witch whispers into my ear. “Now your little?—”
I bring my head forward and rear back, a satisfying crunch sounding as my head collides with her nose. Her hold on me loosens. I duck out of her reach, summoning fire as I turn toward her. But she’s too fast.
She grabs me again and pulls me toward her. I don’t fight it this time. I collide with her, my white flames searing into her chest. She screams and jumps away from me, flinging her dagger toward me. It slices through my forearm. I hiss, but surge forward and hurl fire at her. It collides with her leathers, but does nothing. She smirks and surges toward me again, a writhing ball of dark magic in the palm of her hand.
I will not die today.
I summon wind and send it racing toward her, then channel fire. A wall of wildfire speeds toward her. Her face turns ghost white as it approaches, but she doesn’t run. She doesn’t have time. My wildfire consumes her, leaving a pile of ash in its wake. I drop my hands and let the flames die.
Behind me, Asmo still battles the golden-eyed witch. The Cursed lay on the ground, unmoving. Asmo slashes at the witch with his sword of flames, but she’s too fast. She dodges every strike.
I reach for my magic that stems from the earth, focusing on the feel of the dirt beneath me, the twisting roots of the tree that run below the surface. My magic brushes against one, and I grab hold of it, forcing the roots upward, reaching for the witch as she avoids Asmo’s blows. I push, urging the roots faster.
The witch stumbles as the roots find purchase, ensnaring her in their grasp. She glances down and screams in anger. It’s all Asmo needs to land his sword in her neck. Her scream dies as her blood stains the snow black.
Asmo turns, eyes wild. “Are you okay?” He rushes to me, bloodied hands reaching out as he assesses me. Blood pours down my leg and drips from my forearm, but I’m okay. I’m alive.
“I’m fine,” I say, as my gaze roves over every inchof him.
He grabs me, and the Canis forest disappears. A different forest materializes, the familiar cabin hidden behind the barrier.
As promised, Asmo and I technically arrive back at the cabin before sunset. A sliver of sun is still in the sky, but it’s nearly gone here, too. The moment we step through the translucent barrier, the front door whips open. Ivan stands in the doorway, a relieved expression on his face that quickly turns to horror the longer he stares at us.
“Told you I’d have her back,” Asmo says cheerfully, as if he didn’t send Luca and Ivan into cardiac arrest only hours ago. As if we don’t have blood all over us.
“What in the hells happened?” Ivan asks as he hurries toward us.
