I was stunned. I’d never seen anyone pull off a move like that in my life. The surprise was just enough that it gave the White Rose an opening, and she sliced forward with her dagger.
I jumped backward in the nick of time, but not enough so that I got away without any damage. The tip of her blade cut my chest, digging in. Blood scattered across the snow.
“Agh!” I stumbled. I wanted to examine the wound and see how badly she hurt me, but I didn’t have time. The White Rose began a relentless assault that I struggled to combat. Every time our blades met, something flashed in her eyes— was it hatred? Or desperation?
When she’d knocked my weapon to the side for the third time and almost cut me once again, I knew weapons weren’t going to work with this woman. She’d been taught by a master and couldn’t be bested that way. I needed to fight her with teeth and claws.
I changed into a wolven and charged. The White Rose’s eyes widened behind her mask. She scrambled away, throwing out an illusion as I leapt for her throat.
The illusion froze my limbs in place. My body became paralyzed for a few moments, and I fell to the ground like a statue of concrete.
When I hit the snow, I regained control of my motor skills, but the White Rose had gained the upper hand. Before I could get to my feet, she flung her arm out. A powerful illusion spell overtook me. It pinned me to the snow, spreading over my limbs like some kind of thick tar.
It was insanely uncomfortable. Panic swelled in me as the White Rose approached. What was she going to do with me? Was she going to kill me?
I had to fight back with magic of my own. I harnessed what illusion magic was left inside of me, and pressed against the White Rose’s spell. The sorceress gritted her teeth; she pushed her intention further down around me, though at this point, I was beginning to rise.
Once I’d managed to get back on my feet, I put all my will into breaking the spell and setting myself free. Finally, I tore the spell in two, and the White Rose wavered. The cost of casting the spell hit her hard, and she fell to one knee.
She was tired. She breathed in heavy pants as I approached. She looked up— her brown hair splayed across her face as I advanced.
“I’m going to tear you to shreds.” I had every intention of doing so. This woman had foiled me twice. She wouldn’t again.
I ran, jaws extended toward her middle. The White Rose forced herself to stand and did a few complicated, hasty maneuvers with her hands. A portal opened beside her, spinning rapidly and shooting off sparks that hissed as they hit the snow.
She was getting away! I was within range— I changed back into a man and reached out my hand to grab her. The White Rose bolted. My fingers uselessly grazed her cloak as she jumped through the portal. It sealed shut behind her, leaving me alone in the meadow.
I screamed a cry of rage and kicked the snow. Why did the gods see fit to torture me like this? I wanted to follow, but I didn’t know where she had gone, and I was useless at portal magic. Couldn’t make a decent one if I tried.
I put a hand to the gash she’d given my chest. It was bleeding, but wasn’t deep. I wouldn’t even need stitches. I’d bandage it up when I got home. My shifter healing abilities would mend the wound by tomorrow.
Yet if she’d been a bit faster, she would’ve gotten my heart.
I huffed. I’d never get anywhere with my missions if this woman kept interfering. With her as a guard, the Black Claw would remain safe from my attacks. And that was something wholly unacceptable.
I was changing my strategy. The Black Claw would have to wait, because I needed to discover the identity of the White Rose.
* * *
February first wasa freezing and dreary day in Malovia. Clouds had settled over the school, putting everything into a muddled shade of gray.
It didn’t help my mood. I knew I’d been in a bad way since my second confrontation with the White Rose. Something Stefan was quick to point out.
“Would youpleasepull the hockey stick out of your ass?” Stefan complained as we left the locker room together after practice. “If you need help, bend over.”
“Ha, ha,” I said sarcastically. The last thing on my mind was hockey at the moment— though I had to admit, my performance today had been rather poor.
“You nearly took out Yan with one of your shots,” Stefan countered. “You’re not on your game.”
It was true. I’d shot toward the goal, but wasn’t paying attention and hurtled the puck at one of my teammates, Yan. If he hadn’t ducked, the puck would have smashed into his face and knocked him out.
I gave a frustrated sigh. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t think I’m cut out for this. I’m going to quit the team.”
“What the Fuck? You’re our star player!” Stefan shouted.
“Not anymore.” On average, I usually scored two goals in our games against opposing teams. During the last three, I’d yet to sink one. I hadn’t managed to put anything on the scoreboard after the King’s Contest ended, and our roster was suffering horribly for it. “I should back out and give some other guy a spot on the team. Someone who can actually make points.”
“Dude, you can’t give up hockey,” Stefan said .
