Page 194 of Veil of Blood and Bone

“Well, come on, lollipop.” I taunt. “You want to play rough? I’m game.”

“Wren, stop fucking around.” He dives low and ducks, swiping claws like steel toward the jötun’s ankles.

His eyes burn red, glowing like a forge, and his fangs extend. He’s no longer the man but the monster on the inside.

Ice cracks where he makes contact.

And freezes over the moment he wrenches his claws free.

My jaw clenches, and my shadows cast a wide net around Isvargr. They drive forward at once, and in the same motion I leap, bringing the flaming sword down on his side where Helene’s flames touched.

Isvargr twists at the last second, and the sword tip buries itself in the ground instead, a puff of snow jetting upward.

Well. In the fight between fire, shadow, and ice…I know who’s winning.

Power tugs at my core to keep the sword ignited. How else am I going to melt the frost giant’s bones?

Three of us circle the beast, going low, nipping like piranhas.

Then the wind shifts.

The endless stretch of ice and snow, cut through by the howling gale, brings with it the whisper of change. It’s too small to grow into anything substantial yet but among the howl, beyond the wails of the spirits trapped by the breeze, stirs something more ancient than gods.

“Look, he’s good and mad now.” I slash at Isvargr, and he snaps in my direction, spouting more jötun curses. “Actually, I think the half-melted aesthetic is a decent look for you.”

Isvargr postures, hunching closer, trying to track all three of us. He whips around to face Nicholas with his limbs rigid and icy hackles raised.

“What’s the matter?” I ask Isvargr. “Are the odds against you, Elsa? Why don’t you let it go?”

Nicholas moves first, features a ragged mask of fury as he throws himself toward Isvargr again.

All those stains on my soul are finally being put to good use. I’m not afraid to play dirty.

Hell, none of us can ever be mislabeled as kindhearted. We never have been. We’re no strangers to sacrifice and betrayal, death and murder.

Forest crowds Audra near the base of a massive pine with a trunk too large to reach around. Shielding her with his body.

He glances toward me with a single cutting look that speaks volumes.

My grin widens. Eat your heart out, bird brain.

Shadows darken, pulled from my core, spreading like wildfire across the hoarfrost. Nicholas attacks, far from Helene, his claws singing as he sends them skittering over the jötun’s flank. He won’t use weapons. No knives, no sword, no bullets.

Nothing to risk hurting her.

Nothing that will easily take down a fucking frost giant.

I swing my own sword with a cackle and droplets of water hiss and separate from Isvargr’s leg as I drive it home. Ice crackles along the blade.

Metal shatters.

I bend, crouching, swiveling. Fuck.

A wave of hail pummels us from overhead.

Nicholas mounts the jötun’s back again, crawling up toward the same spot. I circle, doing my part in the dance, once that leaves you breathless. Thirsting for more.

Isvargr regenerates the longer we keep this charade going.