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Fenryr
I blink, and my vision is coated with a swirling emerald film, a wave of energy cresting in my veins as the beast lurking beneath my skin rears its head, waking to the sounds of its mate in danger. My muscles shudder over lengthening bone and bulging joints, causing my skin to shiver and stretch as it accommodates my transformation.
I stand shoulder to shoulder with Cyprien and Roark, eyeing down the largest of the arachnyx just in front of us, blending in beautifully with the surrounding landscape. Its thorax lowers to the ground as those horrible mandibles clack together, filling the air with the creature's anticipation.
Malice whispers something to Dagny, and I cut my gaze to the left—my stomach flipping as I take in the creature just over his shoulder, lowered and ready to pounce. I open my mouth to warn him of the impending doom, but it's too late. The arachnyx lunges, sailing through the air in slow motion, its mouth wide and fangs dripping as it closes in on its prey.
A sudden, explosive surge of power shocks the ground, tilting the world on its axis and filling the air with a charged energy, thickening the atmosphere and threatening to cleave the sky apart. The spider is blown backward across the land, colliding with a tree trunk at the far edge of the clearing with so much force that it causes the wood to break and splinter.
In the next heartbeat, the space is covered in an eerie stillness, the magic thrumming from Dagny’s veins thickening the air with swirling tendrils of power that consume all air and sound in the small clearing.
I stare unblinking at Dagny’s frame, scared to move, to breathe in case it shatters her focus and corrupts the vein of magic she’s managed to tap into. Her palms are outstretched toward the horde, her brow pinched and sweat beading across her upper lip as she forces her magic into the chittering, snapping beasts. Surprisingly, none of the creatures are moving—all of their focus is trained on Dagny, awaiting her orders.
“Go!” she chokes, her face turning purple as she concentrates on holding them all in place. “I can’t… much longer…”
Before the creatures can break free of her hold, the six of us lunge into action, flying across the distance with claws outstretched and canines sharpened—all of our focus on ending the lives of the creatures that dare endanger our mate.
With a bellow, I jump onto the arachnyx’s back, my arms held high and abdomen quivering as I prepare to deliver a killing blow. My fists come down on the back of its skull with all the force I can muster, cleaving its bulbous head in two and sending the great creature to the ice, utterly lifeless. I move on to the next while the other demons make short work of the rest of the horde, filling the clearing with a symphony of snarls and growls and the snapping of jaws.
As soon as the last arachnyx falls, the light fades from Dagny’s eyes, and she crumples, her knees giving out a second before her body slumps to the ground in a limp heap.
The six of us rush toward her, racing to be the first to touch her, to make sure she’s okay. I pull her into my lap as the others crowd around us, their eyes wide and searching as I run my palm over Dagny’s cheek, desperate to wake her.
“It’s okay, little one,” I whisper, pushing healing magic into her pale skin. “You did so, so well. I’m so proud of you.”
Her eyes flutter open, a soft groan falling from her chapped lips as she wakes. She looks up, and my breath gets caught in my throat at the sight of the beautiful ring of silver around her iris, pulsing with the fantastical magic thrumming through her system.
I can’t believe how powerful she is. To be able to control a horde of arachnyx with only a few weeks’ training is utterly remarkable. At that moment, I realize Malice was right—that this beautiful little light in my arms is the strongest creature in The Far Place. More powerful than Slaine and Abaddon combined, able to tilt the world on its axis if she willed it.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper, placing a delicate kiss to the center of her brow, my bond mark flaring to life on her hip. “Are you hurting anywhere?”
“I don’t… think so.” She blinks slowly, her eyes returning to the natural warm brown with each one. “I think I’m okay.” She reaches up and takes Fenryr’s face in her hand as the rest of the demons crowd around her, their voices muddled as they all exclaim their praises.
Dagny shakes her head, her skin paling as she tries to push out of my grip. “We have to go. We… the heart. We have to find it before Slaine?—”
“Why don’t you rest for a minute, bunny?” Cyprien asks, a low whine building in the base of his chest. “You used so much power…”
“I can’t,” she deadpans, pushing out of my arms and standing on shaking legs. Pulling her shoulders back, she takes a deep breath in through her nose, then stalks off toward the tree line, past the countless bodies and traipsing over pools of dark blood. Just like the goddess she really is.
“Well?” she calls, turning her head over her shoulder. “Are you coming?”
Grinning, we follow her, Malice rushing to take the lead and guide us deeper into the forest. To take us to the heart.
Table of Contents
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- Page 31 (Reading here)
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