Page 52 of The Fox Heir

I raise my eyebrow at him, urging him to finish his thought. “Then again, what?”

He gives me an odd look. “Then again, I suppose that’s how we were made, humans with light and shadow powers. When high fae mingled with human nobility.”

“It creates monsters.”

He gives me a small laugh. “Maybe so, Red. Maybe so.”

A branch snaps in the distance, sharp as a bone breaking. My breath hitches. Tristan’s posture instantly shifts to alert, like a cat ready to spring. He holds one finger up to his lips and gives me a pointed look.

I nod, swallow hard, and flex my fingers over the daggers strapped to my thighs. Several this time. I won’t be caught unprepared again, not after the dungeon fae. I’d found a measly armory during one of my sleepless nighttime walks. There wasn’t much there, a handful of rusty swords, axes with broken handles, bits and pieces of tarnished silver armor. But I took the best of the daggers, polished them, and sharpened their blades.

When I first arrived at dawn training with silver blades strapped to both thighs, Tristan didn’t even blink. I’m becoming more of a Wolf each day, it seems.

I unbuckle my cloak and let it slip to the ground. If I’m expected to fight, I need to move. The scarlet fabric pools like spilled blood at my feet. Tristan’s gaze flickers toward it, then back to me, quick and sharp. He gives me an approving nod. I adjust my stance to match his, two predators ready to hunt.

Snow crunches beneath Tristan's boots as he steps over the shattered remains of a stone archway. As I listen for the sound of an approaching animal, the air grows colder. Unnaturally so. It prickles across my skin, settling into the hollows of my bones. I shiver, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of a dagger.

“You feel that?” I whisper, breath curling in the cool air.

Tristan nods as he unsheathes his silver sword. Shadows coil along the blade. “It’s close.” He shifts nearer. The awareness between us burns hotter than the cold air.

A sound splits the stillness, a low, bone-deep growl that thrums in my chest. Outside the temple, a creature steps out from behind an overgrown elderberry bush. At first, I think it’s an enormous emaciated polar bear. But it’s no such thing. It moves in impossible ways. Its joints bend too far, like limbs pulled by marionette strings. Its fur shimmers like frost, and jagged spines of ice ripple down its back.

The creature halts, noticing us through the ruined window. Every nerve in my body is on alert as it pushes its heavy front paws into the icy ground and stands on its hind legs. It lets out a howl that sounds so unnatural, I cringe and cover my ears with my hands. The sound rattles through my ribs, and stars pop in front of my eyes. The temple walls groan and dust falls on us like rain.

The creature moves fast, catching us both off-guard as it charges into the temple through a crumbled wall. Stone explodes around it in a spray of ice and grit. It lunges, claws scraping stone as Tristan’s sword flashes, shadows writhing. He slices a jagged arc toward the beast's face. Shadows bite deep into its flesh, but the creature barely flinches. Breath mists from its jaws, spreading crystalline frost across the floor.

My heart is racing, but I steady myself. I try to summon my power, but nothing comes. It stays silent in my chest.

“Focus!” Tristan yells, twisting to evade another swipe. The beast’s claws slam into the marble altar, cutting deep grooves into the stone. “Control your power!”

“I’m trying!” I grit my teeth. My voice cracks with rising panic.

Infuriated, I try to call it forth again but fail. This is useless and I’m wasting time.

Enough. I’ll have to handle this creature a different way. I dart toward the bear’s flank, quick and quiet while it’s focusing on Tristan. My feet slide along the icy ground as I slash the creature’s hind leg with one of my daggers. With my other hand, I land a second cut in its side. The blade sinks deep into its fur, but instead of blood, shards of ice spray outward, racing up my arm like splintered glass. Panic blooms in my chest.

“Red!” Tristan slams his blade into the beast’s ribs. Shadows pour into the wound, spreading like poison. The frost bear growls, and the sound shakes what’s left of the temple. The walls tremble, rubble spilling from cracks above. For a heartbeat, I think the whole ruin might collapse on us.

I grit my teeth and shake the ice from my arm. Frost burns my fingers, but I don’t stop moving. I jump out of the path of another powerful swipe of claws.

Tristan swings his shadow-laced sword again, but the beast kicks out, sending Tristan skidding across the icy floor. He hits hard, sliding to a stop at the foot of the altar. I lunge toward him on instinct, my hand outstretched to help, but he’s already pushing himself up. There’s blood on his lips and a storm in his gray eyes. His dark hair hangs wild across his brow, and his jaw is set. The sight sparks something sharp in me, something hotter than fear.

I fling a dagger at the creature’s head. It slices the beast’s ear before clanking to the ground on the other side of the temple. The creature twists to look at me, taking its attention off Tristan for a moment.

I withdraw another dagger from the straps along my thighs. Across the room, Tristan wipes blood from the corner of his mouth. There’s pain behind his eyes, but he doesn’t let it slow him down. He advances again, sword flickering with shadow. This time, when he strikes, his dark power tightens around the beast. The creature stops advancing toward me, pinned by the weight of shadows. But even as it staggers, its jaws yawn wide. Rows of jagged teeth glisten with frost.

The creature’s unnatural howl makes colors burn across my vision, violent and dazzling. My knees buckle as the world swims. Tristan shouts something, but his words are lost in the roaring echoes that bounce endlessly off the stone of the ruined temple.

I rise, trembling. The creature lunges at me again. I throw another dagger as I dive out of its path. The blade lodges in the creature’s eye. Shards of ice spatter from the wound instead of blood, shattering when they hit the ground.

Tristan doesn’t hesitate. With a final strike, he drives his sword deep into the creature’s heart. Darkness rushes from the blade, flooding the beast with writhing tendrils of shadow that flicker behind its eyes and out its nostrils.

The beast howls once more, and the sound bounces off the stone columns, destroying what remains of the window. For one breathless moment, it’s still. Its remaining eye fixes on me. Then it collapses, its body exploding into fragments of ice that skitter across the temple’s marble floor. Outside, the winter wind carries its last echoing howls away.

I turn to Tristan, relief swelling in my chest, until I see him stagger. His sword clatters to the ground, and he presses a hand to his ribs.

“Tristan!” I rush to his side, heart hammering. “You’re hurt.”