I won’t lose Caz too. I can’t.
A surge of magic tears through me, instinctive and wild and unfettered from any form of control. Ice and frost explode outward in a wave, coating branches, earth, wolves … Everything I can see is touched by my wild magic.
The two closest unbonded wolves skid, claws scrabbling and skittering on sudden ice, and as they struggle to right themselves, Benny hurls a dagger straight between the breastbone of the one closest to him.
Elska uses the opening to tear another away from Ruben, while Kyor slashes his sword through one struggling to regain its footing.
The remaining wolves howl in fear, but my magic continues to build within me. Miraculously, the horses are still on their feet, though scrambling away from the ice. But it’s spreading. I can’t control it. I can’t draw it back in. I can’t stop the thrumming that is pounding behind my temples and in my hands and filling every part of me.
Kyor spins to face me, eyes blazing with alarm. ‘Rose, that’s enough!’
‘I … I can’t—’ My breath fogs in the air and the cold pours out of me as I attempt to reply. But it’s too much, too fast. Most of the surviving wolves have abandoned the fight entirely, fleeing into the trees with panicked howls calling a retreat.
But the last one, the scarred leader, staggers, snarling as frost creeps over its legs. Its fury isn’t solely aimed at me. I can feel it. Its anger is at its pack, too. Their retreat. But I’m the one he thinks he’s going to make pay.
Only my magic begs to differ.
This time, I deliberately reach for my power, but Kyor is faster. He barrels into the wolf, sending the two of them crashing into the snow in a thunderous tangle.
But my magic is stretching out now, with invisible tendrils I cannotsee yet somehow can feel. It thunders through me, grasping towards the fallen wolf. The enemy.
I watch as Kyor’s sword pierces the animal’s chest just as my magic snaps shut like a trap, pulling the very breath from the wolf.
The animal lies prone. Its chest does not rise; its heart does not beat. It is dead, but whether the prince ended the beast or I did, I can’t be sure.
As I slump to the ground, Kyor withdraws his blade. The contrast of red on white is a sudden and stark reminder of Oke’s death.
Of the blood I’ve already spilt.
The howls of the other wolves grow distant as they continue to pound further away, but we, as a group, stand shocked and silent, staring at the bodies of the wolves who lost their lives at our hands.
Every bone in my body regrets these deaths. It was clear from the state of them that they attacked because they were hungry, desperate, and out of options.
In the stillness, our panting breaths rise in white clouds.
Elska gently nudges my shoulder, whining. I place my hand on her fur, grounding myself.
‘I’m fine,’ I say, though my voice trembles. I look at her, seeing her properly for perhaps the first time. She defended me. I don’t know whether it was her call or Kyor’s, but I appreciate it all the same.
‘Thank you,’ I whisper to the wolf.
She lifts her tail a little, brushing it against my face, and then she goes to one of the fallen dire wolves and starts chowing down.
‘Waste not want not,’ Benny quips.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask him before turning to the rest of them. ‘Is everyone all right?’
‘Peachy,’ Benny says while Caz gives me a shaky thumbs up. Ruben continues to stare at one of the dead wolves, as if he’s thinking the same thought I had only moments ago.
We are all animals when we’re pushed to it.
And this journey, I sense, will push us more than once.
Chapter 21
Somehow, we manage to round up all the horses, but unsurprisingly they’re more than a little skittish, and so mounting takes three times longer than it should. Still, eventually we are all on horseback and ready to push forward with a well-fed Elska leading the way.
By the time we stop to set up camp and dig into food, I’m feeling a little less uneasy, the incident with the wolves now behind us. After I’ve eaten, Kyor once again jerks his head to indicate we should do some training. With everything we’ve just been through, the last thing I feel up to is training, but it is also more evident than ever that I need it. I’m not out for a moonlight stroll; I’m in the wilds of Morathka, and dangers lurk. So I do as he asks, and we train for another hour on improving my footwork, working on keeping my distance from an Issen attacker before I strike.
