Aviva
I’m having the time of my life.
I zigzag through the woods in my wolf form after three rogues who’ve decided they want nothing to do with me. In fact, the rogues have stopped hunting me over the past several hours and instead are trying to get as far away from me as possible. Their prey has become their biggest predator.
I did my best to lead the horde away from Endova. That was my goal–the reason I made the snap decision to leave my mate behind and race into the jaws of death itself. Now, I have the horde moving away from the tribal pack lands all together, herding them back into the open plains like a shepherd, and they’re my sheep–if a shepherd killed their sheep, that is.
I’ve lost count of how many there are. My red fur is completely black with their blood. I catch my reflection in another small, burbling creek as I leap, seeing only my eyes shining like polished amber against a blanket of black night.
I’ve become a shadow, like Kenna. I blend into the darkness, silent as a ghost and faster than the rolling, incoming gloom of night as the rogues chase the sunset. I launch into the air, shift to my human form, and lean into my twin blades, driving them down into the spine of the first rogue. It falls with a crack, black blood spraying through the air. I’m off its back before it even touches the ground, sending an arrow through the neck of the rogue beside it.
Down it falls, landing on the body of its counterpart, and the third rogue takes off in a sprint, bellowing in fear and warning to the other rogues seeking refuge from the sunlight in the shadowed forest.
It’s too late to double back to ensure the rest of the rogues have been herded to the plains. Sunlight will have weakened the ones I chased there earlier, but night is falling. I know once the sun dips below the distant horizon, they’ll turn back toward the forest, rushing toward the small villages and hunting camps stretching from here all the way to Teshka.
I’ve killed dozens, but it’s not enough. My hands cramp as I send one more arrow whizzing through the air. It lodges itself in the ear of that third rogue and travels through its skull, lodging itself in a nearby tree. The rogue falls, dead and crumpled.
I lower my bow, panting, as the last glimmers of sunlight fade and total darkness falls all around me, the forest growing so silent I can hear my own heartbeat.
‘Where the FUCK ARE YOU?!’ Ryan’s voice echoes through my head, clearer than it has been in hours.
‘Please tell me you have warriors with you,’ I rush out, turning in a circle as wind rustles the canopy of leaves. ‘Ryan?’
‘Where are you, Aviva?’ He sounds desperate but relieved to hear my voice. I run my hand over my face, wiping rogue blood off my mouth, hating the salty, acrid taste of it.
‘Near the edge of the forest, due east. I’m ten miles outside of Navvan.’
‘Stay there–’
‘I can’t. I have to–’
A bellowing echoes toward me, causing birds and small creatures in the wood to scurry, seeking refuge. The rogues are coming back. This is the moment I’ve been coming to terms with all day long. The rogues gathered, forming an army, and I did my best to push them away from the tribal packs so their warriors would have time to prepare for the fight that’s coming now.
Dread plucks the fine, golden threads binding me to Ryan. I know he can feel it. I know he knows I can’t stay where I am.
‘Aviva,’ he says calmly.
‘I’m here.’ I look around as clicking, growling noises funnel around me. Eyes glow in the darkness-red. Red, and honed on mine. I raise my body as a chill coasts over my body.
‘I love you.’
I blink back tears. ‘I love you.’
The first of the rogues breaches the forest again as I send the words through the mind-link, letting every feeling of love, of longing and devotion go with them. I might die here tonight. That thought has crossed my mind a few times already, especially since my fingers are sore and raw, and my skin is damp and slick with blood, making it easier to screw up. One wrong move, one missed arrow, and I’m gone.
In the distance, over the clicking of rogue teeth, I hear the first shouts of the warriors. High pitched, their war cries echo through the forest, and a pinch of hope replaces the dread coursing through my veins.
I’m moving again in my human form, sending arrow after arrow flying, gathering them from the skulls of necks of the rogues I kill and pass. My body aches from almost constant transformation, but something in my bones is making it impossible to take a break. There’s always been a drive within me to protect. It’s something ingrained in my soul, something woven through every vein into the very fiber of my being. I think of my sisters as I slash into a rogue with my knives. I think of Ryan as I shift into my wolf form and sink my teeth into the shoulder of another rogue, shifting to slice through its neck. I think of Freya and Andrew, praying the blood coating my hands gives them enough time to find each other again, giving them the time they deserve.
I think of Ella as I launch into the air and send an arrow soaring, piercing one rogue and then another. I think of Kenna as I skirt the edge of the forest, preventing rogue after rogue from entering as the warriors' calls get closer and closer. I think of Maeve, my future queen, when the first sounds of a bloody battle reach me only a mile outside of Navvan.
Tethered. I am tethered to the Firestone queens. I am their warrior, their protector. I can’t fail. I won’t. I refuse.
The village of Navvan is totally overrun and on fire when I reach the outer ring of stone buildings. Toppled stone blocks my progress. I’m running out of arrows as I bring down a rogue chasing a trio of warriors. My bow string threatens to snap, and my bloody fingers slip, sending the arrow flying into its ribs instead, but it gives the warriors time to regroup and turn on it.
‘I made it to Navvan!’ I shout through the mind-link to Ryan or his warriors, whoever’s closest. I shift into my wolf form and barrel into the fray, leaping over burning rubble and clawing the backs of two large rogues chasing wolves that smell like they belong to Teshka. But there’re so many scents here that mingle. I have no idea who belongs to what pack as I reach the front lines where over fifty wolves hold off a sea of rogues.
I shift into my human form, panting as pain stretches through my body with the transformation. “SURROUND THEM!” I scream, motioning wildly to the wolves. “SURROUND THE ROGUES! GET BEHIND THEM!”
I’m not sure if they can hear me. I pitch forward, resting my hands on my knees as my lungs tremble and refuse air. “Please,” I whisper to myself, to my aching body. “Don’t give up now.”
My wolf feels so far away as I try to force myself to shift again, having to reach deep for those Goddess given powers.
‘Surround the rogues!’ Ryan’s voice cuts through the mind-link, which explodes with noise. ‘You heard her! Surround them!’
The wolves part and start running in an attempt to form a circle around the rogues still rushing in from the forest. Rogues break through the line, tossing wolves into the air as they barrel into the village, but I feel a nudge on my side as I fight for breath, feeling every bone in my body knitting together as I shift into my wolf form.
Andrew is here, standing beside me, nudging me with his snout.
‘Ryan?’ I gasp. ‘Where is he?’
‘Nearby,’ Andrew says, his voice muffled with chatter in the mind-link. ‘He’s trying to get to you. He wants you to rest.’
‘I can’t.’ I meet his eyes. ‘We’re being overrun.’
A keening howl slices the air around us in two. Andrew lifts his head, his ear flat against his head. Another howl, and I’m moving again, drawn to the sound against my will.
Rogues fall dead all around me, covered in wolves and warriors in their human forms. I ignore the arrows, knives, claws, and teeth. I step over bodies of wolves, humans, and rogues as I walk toward the forest, following the calls of the hellhound.
Ryan killed one once.
Why not me?
I shift into my human form against my will, my powers finally exhausted. I pull my last arrow from my quiver. It’s bent, something I would have normally discarded.
I reach the edge of the village and step into the silent woods as the battles rages behind me and edge into the darkness.
Silence swells all around me like I’ve just walked into a void. The sounds of death and war die out, replaced by the rustling of leaves and scared mice scurrying from bush to bush.
Leaves and twigs snap under my bare feet. I lost my shoes hours ago. I don’t even feel the rocks biting into my skin.
Green, glowing eyes breach the darkness. The smell of decay clouds my senses, but I grip my bow and pull back an arrow.
A man steps out of the darkness wearing rags–the remains of Navvan’s traditional warrior uniform. Tall, with dark hair and a chiseled face, he might have been handsome at one point, but now his features are distorted, the muscles in his face slack and his shoulders… hanging, like they’ve been snapped out of place.
Real fear grips me as he steps toward me, his thin mouth drawing up in a deranged smile.
“You,” he growls in a gravely, deep voice. “I’ve been waiting for you.” He comes to a stop, panting and drooling. He jerks, closing his eyes as he rolls his neck like he’s in severe pain.
“Who are you?”
“Hardan,” he breathes, curling his hands into fists. “You were supposed to be mine.”
“Well, I’m mated, so that sucks for you.”
A low laugh escapes him. I notice his cracked, bloody teeth. What the hell is wrong with him?
“You don’t even know what you are, do you?”
I adjust my bow and aim my bent arrow at his face. “Whatever I am, I’m in far better shape than you.”
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” he laughs cruelly. “Soon this will spread here, to the tribal lands, and there will be nothing you can do about it, Firestone pet.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What will spread?”
His green eyes blaze. “They have the book.”
My stomach hollows out. I know what he means. He can only mean one thing.
“No,” I say. “Did you–” I think back to the battle with the Navvan warriors. Hardan killed his own father and brothers. He killed most of the elders. Navvan was the resting place of the Book of Whispers, but only a few people knew. My father knew, because he’s our patriarch. Hardan’s father was the patriarch of Navvan, and it was his duty to keep the Book of Whispersguarded and kept under a veil of secrecy.
“You used the book.” I gasp, my eyes growing wide.
He smiles, his back cracking as he jerks into a bow. “Not me, pet. They.”
“Who are they?”
“You’ll find out soon.”
“What have you done?” Tears well in my eyes before spilling down my cheeks.
Hardan straightens and his face is… wrong. Half transformed, his body starts to stretch, and his next words strain into nothing more than a rumbling growl. It’s the growl of a hellhound. I catch a single word. Baetyl. The Gate of the Gods.
“NO!” My scream is absorbed by his howl. He’s not a man or a wolf. He’s a rogue. Worse, he’s some kind of rogue–hellhound hybrid, and he’s coming right at me, jaws open and teeth gleaming.
My eyes close as I brace myself for his impact. But when I open them again, when he’s only inches away, I see a white wolf standing in the woods, watching me with a silver gaze that I can only describe as curious.
Something black and huge crashes into Hardan. Spiky, sharp fur brushes my front, knocking me flat on my ass.