WORST. PEP TALK. EVER
Ziara
We shouldn’t be here.
Trepidation rippled down my spine, and goosebumps erupted across my skin as hints of frost and savagery wafted through the air. Something dangerous prowled these woods, a predator the likes of which I’d never smelled.
I was in so far over my head that it was hard to breathe.
Hands hovering over my dagger hilts, I scanned the dense green foliage, prepared to bolt at the first sign of trouble. This was further than I’d ever been from the den, and the need to return to the safety of home clawed at my insides. My hackles stood straight up, my body strung tighter than a bow as the feral instincts that had kept me alive for twenty years went on high alert.
Scarred, beefy hands gripped my shoulders, and I almost jumped out of my skin. My accomplice’s scent hit me as he gave me a stern shake and spun me around to face him.
“Look at me,” Rust said. His official title was sergeant at arms of the Evergreen Pack, but unofficially, he was my mentor and hadbeen my primary trainer for as long as I could remember. His irises glowed with flecks of gold as the wolf inside him held my gaze. “It’s been my honor to train you over the years.”
My heart pounded and sweat slid down my back despite the chill of the midnight air. “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”
“Shut up, pup. Let me speak. Keeping you alive has proven to be relatively easy thanks to your instincts and smarts. You can do this, Ziara.” His hard gaze gripped my soul. “You have to.”
I nodded. “Yessir.”
Concern dug deep grooves into his forehead as he triple-checked the small action camera and headlamp affixed to my baseball cap. Ensured they were secure, he examined the two-way radio piece jammed into my ear canal. “I got your eyes and ears. If shit goes sideways, I’ll talk you through it.”
“Of course you will.”
My voice held more conviction than I felt, which was unfair considering Rust’s considerable experience. He was somewhere around two centuries old and had seen some shit. He’d survived it, too. Other than my father, he was the best wolf to have at my back.
Or in my comms, since he wouldn’t be breaching the sinister eight-foot-tall hedge with me.
Yes, even the shrubbery reeked of menace, mocking me with its lethality. It seemed sentient somehow. As if it wanted to reach out and grab me. That would have seemed crazy only hours ago, but the sketchy wildlife and flora on the drive down here had made it clear we weren’t in pack territory anymore.
Fighting my instincts to flee, I crept closer, enthralled by the glimpses of shimmer I kept catching in the air.
“What’s that?” I asked.
He followed my gaze and frowned. “That’s the ward. But don’t worry. The amulet’ll get you through.”
I checked for the pendant Sereana had secured around my neck, promising that it and my blood would break any barrier.Granted, she wasn’t known for her honesty. Or her humanity, for that matter. But as my aunt, and my father’s ally, I had to trust she wouldn’t send me to my death.
Silly me, I’d pictured the ward to be some kind of stone structure, not an iridescent bubble of magic that threatened to fry me if Sereana turned out to be wrong.
Rust sniffed me and wrinkled his nose. “Give yourself another once-over with that spray.”
Unhooking the bottle dangling from my backpack, I doused myself again in the witch’s prized potion, neutralizing my scent and becoming practically undetectable.
Rust nodded. “Better. And likely unnecessary until you reach the castle. Gargoyles can’t smell for shit.”
“Excuse me?” My brain stuttered, and I knuckled my ears, as if that would help when there was nothing wrong with my hearing. “Did you say gargoyles?”
“Yeah. The sentries. Can’t you smell ’em?”
“Is that the…”—I sniffed and shuddered, instincts screaming at me to turn tail and run—“icy predator I smell?”
Fear sharpened his scent. “No.”
My pulse danced a two-step. “So, what’s that then?”
“I don’t know for sure.” His pinched expression gave him away. He might not be certain, but he had a hunch he didn’t want to share, one that worried him.
