Page 56 of The Darkest Wolves

My fingers slip over the cold jewels along the hilt. Something inside me purrs to life as I hold his gaze. A blaze of power crawls through me. Fiery heat licks at the flesh along my arm, my neck, my face.

And then, I lunge at him. The sweep of my arm and the curve of the weapon is a fluidity of motion that’s set to kill. The flash of quickness he puts into shoving away from me is faster than my eyes can see. But it doesn’t slow me down.

His body tightens every single muscle, and he’s storming toward me just as I’m rushing at him. We meet with a collision of fury. My hand arches back, and he is just too fucking fast.

My wrist is in his fist within the blink of an eye, and he holds me back with a smile cutting across his features.

“My sweet, sexy bride. You’re weak,” he whispers like a sentiment.

The single word from his lips is enough for the beast inside me to roar awake. Its hostility growls through my entire body, and even the Prince himself seems impressed by the hidden creature within me.

Until my elbow flings forward and slams over the bridge of his nose so hard he doesn’t immediately react. Blood spews from his face, and his hand lifts slowly to find that it’s his own blood.

Real surprise darkens his face.

“You’re a weak bitch,” he repeats more violently.

Power shakes through me as vicious teeth extend in my mouth. It’s something I’ve felt a time or two in my life, but I’ve never welcomed it so much in my entire life. My knees bend, and I’m leaping at him in seconds.

He’s just faster.

Strong arms wrap around me. It’s a vise of a grip as he twists me until my back is to his front and he’s hauling me with him as he brings me to my sister.

Her tears are loud and shaking now. Her pretty face is stained with wet sadness. My beast shrinks back at the mere idea of harming her if it gets too close.

“Carve your fucking moon.” He twists my arm until the blade in my hand is so near her soft cheek.

“Fuck you,” I grind out, my head flinging back to slam into what I hope is his bloody broken nose.

A roar of anger pulses through his body and my arm as he grips my hand so hard the metal of the weapon cuts into my palm.

“It’s her face or your fucking life, Cersia!” He brings the curved edge of the blade harder toward her, and it nicks her flesh just slightly.

A drop of blood stains the dark iron.

I struggle through it all with wide, desperate eyes, but it all happens so fast.

Nyra jerks the weapon from my hand, and in a single stroke, she slices the blade from her chin to the corner of her brow.

The scream that cuts from her lungs cleaves through my own chest.

“Nyra.” I’m gasping out her name as I kick and beat against the arms that hold me. All I see is her blood, and all I hear is her hurt. “Nyra!” I’m screaming for her, but she isn’t aware of me at all as she stares down at the bloody dagger in her unsteady hand.

Ravar is fighting me as I’m fighting him, and it’s the most chaotic moment of emotions flooding my mind and soul.

Then a gleam of blackness walks from the shadows. A slender arm reaches forward. Her black nails wrap around the hilt. And in the single blink of an eye, the Night Witch slings the dagger right at me.

It twirls like a dance suspended in time. It’s all I see, and I can’t think about how she and I got here in this mess of our lives.

But at the last moment, my head turns as far as Ravar’s hold on me will let it.

A thudding sound hits hard. I stumble on my feet. The fall to the ground is unsteady and jarring as my skull cracks into the rock.

The Prince’s blood soaks over me warmly as he continues to hold me even as the light in his dark eyes fades little by little. His gaze clings to mine, and a whisper is caught in his chest from where the blade is embedded into his heart.

“She—she’ll kill you too,” he murmurs with a deadly smile.

Those words haunt through my mind as I stare up at the cavernous ceiling above. Applause—real applause—screams through the room as people chant for the queen they lost centuries ago.

The attention of the High Hell look down on me as the three hellacious shifters crowd around me to look for wounds.

There are none physically.

But the cutting smile the Night Witch slices my way, it’s deadly indeed.

And the Prince was right.

If I’m not careful, she’ll kill me too in the end.

The End.