Page 58 of Malicent (Seven Devils #1)

Millicent

I SILENTLY THANK THE NIGHTMOTHER for my ribs finally healing. Riding horseback demands every muscle, and the terrain hasn’t been kind. The thought of enduring this with broken ribs makes my body want to eviscerate.

I welcome the chill wind as it sweeps over us, coating the fields in a thin layer of frost. The moonlight catches on the icy grass, casting an eerie sheen across the open landscape. Fog rolls in from the woods, adding another layer of unease.

We keep to the main road to avoid the trees. I don’t mind because open fields offer better visibility. Less cover for anything lurking out here in the dark. It is night after all, creatures are always more active after dusk.

I glance toward the forest, wondering what lingers in these woods. From here, I can’t see if magic wraps the trees or if they remain green and soft, only exposed to small portions of magic.

My senses remain sharp. I scan the auras around us, alert for anything unfamiliar.

Kalix’s stands out. He usually gives off nothing—just the quiet, dull stillness of a mortal.

Tonight, something crackles around him. Chaotic.

It flares like jagged pulses of forest green, sharp and scratchy at the edges.

He hasn’t spoken once during our ride. More than anything, that tells me something’s wrong. The man never shuts up, especially when Iris is around.

Iris rides just ahead of him, silent. Not a glance nor a word.

Lovers’ quarrel. I chuckle quietly to myself.

Movement in the field to our left catches my attention. A herd of deer bounds through the tall grass, their glowing eyes reflecting the moonlight as they pass.

Hooves drum across the dirt path mere feet ahead of us.

“How cute,” Iris says in awe, her gaze lingering on the three fawns scrambling to keep up with their mothers.

The large buck trailing behind them stumbles. His steps ungraceful. When his front hooves hit the ground again, one buckles. He crashes forward, collapsing onto the road.

“He’s hurt.”

Iris wastes no time. She halts her horse and dismounts. I’ve never even see Kalix move, but somehow he’s already behind her like an imposing shadow at her back.

“Iris, animals are always getting hurt. If you are going to play savior, at least be quick about it? I’m bloody hungry,” Cage grumbles, stopping his horse with a sigh.

I slow mine just enough to keep a clear view. I’ve never witnessed a necromancer at work before. I find the prospect thrilling.

The buck lets out a harsh snort, followed by a wet, wheezing breath. It’s a warning.

“Hush.”

Her voice is the softest I’ve ever heard it. The animal continues to grunt while it struggles to rise, but Iris isn’t deterred. She sinks to her knees at its side.

“I will not harm you.”

With a steady hand, she pets gently along the buck’s neck. He thrashes (or tries to) until Kalix leans in, pushing the large beast’s heavy frame down with surprising ease. One hand grips the antlers, pinning the sharp tines away from Iris.

“Rainbow, he smells off,” Kalix murmurs, eyeing the buck with a calculating intensity.

“He’s hurt. Do you have my tools?” Iris extends her hand expectantly, ignoring his warning.

Without hesitation, Kalix reaches into his coat and retrieves a deep velvet pouch and a silver hammer etched with intricate carvings. She snatches them from his hand so he can resume holding the buck steady.

Iris opens the pouch. Inside, silver nails, thick as mini stakes, gleam unnaturally in the moonlight.

She inhales deeply.

On her exhale, the markings on her back begin to glow. Vibrant green light blooms through her thin gown and pools onto the dirt road beneath her. The hammer glows the same hue and the nails shimmer to match.

A wave of magic hits me. It doesn’t just pass, it slams into my senses, like cold water over raw nerves. It stirs the Nightmother inside me; she notices this power.

She is strong.

Iris’s nails begin to float in her palm, suspended and pulsing with that emerald light. I dismount, drawn closer, needing to see.

One by one, the nails rise, drifting on unseen threads. They position themselves above the buck—one over its heart, another at the neck, and the last just above its skull.

Then—

The hammer comes down.

The impact doesn’t just crack the skull, it sends a ripple of magic through the surrounding air. It shimmers like moonlight refracted in water. I swear I see fractals—fractures in the very air around her. My fingers tingle with the urge to touch the invisible curtain.

The buck stops thrashing.

The next calm strike drives a nail into its throat. Then its heart.

When she finishes, she rises. Arms lift to the sky. Her head tilts back.

“Vita Nova,” she breathes.

The words barely reach me but I feel them.

The buck inhales deeply; its eyes snap open.

A heavy presence suddenly settles over the space. Something new has arrived, and it feels…off. Is this normal?

I watch intently.

“Easy,” Kalix warns, slowly withdrawing his hands.

The buck stands, finally finding purchase. The nails clink as they fall to the dirt, and yet no wounds remain. Not even a scratch.

Kalix retreats and the buck tenses. Iris steps forward, lowering her head and outstretching her hand.

After a long pause, the buck presses its muzzle to her palm.

“You are mine.”

The words stop me.

I didn’t expect to hear the possessiveness in Iris’s tone. She always struck me as someone who valued freedom, especially for others. However, she’s a necromancer, and I’ve heard their magic can change them, even if only for a while.

Kalix approaches her slowly, cautious not to startle her or the buck.

“Come, my little goddess,” he says gently. “You’ve done enough. Let’s go home.”

He offers his hand but she doesn’t take it.

Doesn’t even look at it. Instead, she stares at him.

Something fierce and unsettling swirls behind her eyes.

Her hand continues to move, calmly petting the buck’s face, even as tension thickens between them, even as it heightens, spreading to where I stand.

Kalix keeps his hand extended. He reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Come home,” he whispers like a soft plea. “Come back to me.”

He threads their fingers together. She lets him, but her hand stays limp. The rejection lingers in the space between them.

I suddenly feel like I’m intruding on something intimate. I turn away and head to my horse, slipping my foot into the stirrup.

Pain explodes through me as I’m thrown forward, slammed into the beast’s side. Rough fur meets my face before I hit the ground—hard. This is the third or fourth time today. I’ve lost count.

My horse rears. Hooves crash into the earth around me, quaking the ground like thunder. I curl inward, protecting my ribs to protect any of my vitals from being crushed.

Then, a familiar body wraps around mine.

The thrashing stops and the horse bolts, galloping off into the dark.

I lift my head to find Iris wrapped around me, shielding me with her own body.

“What the fuck is going on?” I rasp, breathless from my heart hammering in my chest.

“We need to move. Right now. Carnium Edax. ”

She drags me to my feet and we break into a sprint. Her voice cuts through the dark.

“Fuck!” Iris shouts as her horse takes off.

I look back over my shoulder. Where the buck once lay, a monster now stands.

The Carnium Edax.

Shapeshifting predators that love fresh meat. They take the form of their last kill—luring in their next target under the guise of innocence.

The illusion never lasts, their true forms are gruesome.

The creature is massive, nearly the same size as the buck, but the resemblance ends there.

Its body is thick, built for speed and brute strength. No fur remains, in its place pale, slick skin stretches over bulging muscle, tapering into a grey-black hindquarter like rotting smoke.

It crouches on all fours, claws buried deep in the soil like roots of some ancient, cursed tree.

Its front limbs are worse: twisted cords of tendon wrapped over jagged bone, ending in talon-like points.

Its long neck swivels, sniffling the air through deep slits that stretch up its face.

No eyes, but it doesn’t need them. Everything about them is designed to hunt.

Its jaws open slowly, revealing a forest of needle-like fangs. A black serpent tongue flicks between them, tasting the air.

Wonderful. It's fully grown. And all my weapons are on my horse that just fled.

It lunges for Kalix.

A black tendril slices through the air, spearing through its side mid-pounce. The Edax is thrown back, crashing into the field.

It howls a deathly wail somewhere between a deer’s and a human’s scream. The cries of its last two victims echo in that terrible noise.

Cage appears from the fog, sword already drawn. His eyes burn a fierce silver, seeming to glow brighter than moonlight.

“Both of you, get back.”

His command pisses me off, but right now is not the most practical time to argue about the collar.

Kalix shifts in front of us as Cage steps into the tall grass.

The Edax rises with a snarl and snaps its long neck forward, jaws seeking blood. Cage’s shield of dark magic materializes in a flash, parrying its strike with a burst of force.

He pivots in one smooth motion. The sword arcs down and bites into the beast’s neck.

The beast reels backward, bleeding and in pain, but not done.

It begins to circle him, stalking for a weakness. Then it lunges again, ready to rip into his flesh.

Cage doesn’t retreat.

He runs toward it.

At the last moment, he drops low, sliding on his knees beneath the Edax’s belly. His blade slices upward in a vicious arc, opening the creature from throat to abdomen.

The Edax shrieks. Tumbling behind him, it thrashes violently as its innards spill across the grass.

It stills. Finally.

I exhale a small breath of relief and the tension in my muscles slightly eases.

Cage wipes his blade off his thigh and sheathes it without a word.