Chapter 11 #2
Fox raises his sword and runs straight toward the creature. It’s yellow eyes narrow on him and it screeches again, the sound vibrating through my chest as it raises enormous wings and rears back, poised to strike.
Fox lunges, his sword arcing through the air.
I hold my breath, but the wyvern twists away with surprising agility, dancing backward on clawed feet.
Fox pivots to swing again just as the wyvern launches itself skyward, wings beating furiously as it circles low overhead.
I watch in horror as it wheels around midair, tucks its wings, and dives straight at Fox.
Without thinking, I thrust my hands forward, channeling magic through my fingertips. A violent gust erupts from my palms, catching the creature mid-dive. The wind slams into its body, throwing it backward through the air.
It tumbles, wings splayed awkwardly, before crashing to the ground several yards away. Fox doesn’t hesitate. He sprints toward the dazed creature, sword raised high, and brings the blade down against the creature’s flank.
The wyvern screams, the sound vibrating through my skull until my teeth ache, but it manages to take flight again. I track its movement as it dives again, this time aiming straight for me.
I try to follow its path but can’t see properly with the sun directly behind it, turning the creature into nothing more than a dark silhouette against blinding light.
Panicking, I thrust my hands forward and release another burst of magic. The force hits the wyvern, but also catches Fox, and he hits the frozen ground with a dull thud.
The wyvern screeches, and this time a jet of fire erupts from its mouth, the heat searing the air inches from my face.
Fox swears again and scrambles to his feet beside me.
I watch in horror as another stream of flame shoots toward him, but he rolls to the side with impossible grace.
In one fluid motion, he lunges forward, his sword arcing through the air with deadly precision.
I flinch as the blade connects, slicing the wyvern’s head clean from its body.
The massive corpse tips over, hitting the frozen ground with an enormous crash that shakes the ground.
I run over to Fox. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you,” I say, my heart still racing from the fight.
“No,” he pants, bent slightly at the waist, “that was helpful. You stunned it.”
Something warm flutters in my chest at his words. I’m startled by how pleased I am to hear him praise me, even after everything that happened. I shouldn’t care what he thinks anymore. I shouldn’t want his approval. But I do.
I want to say something, but before I can we’re interrupted by another yell. Now what?
Fox seems to be thinking the same thing I am because he groans as a group of six men dressed in armor march over the crest of the hill, the metal of their swords glinting in the sunlight.
There’s a gray wolf bounding in front of them.
It’s smaller than Fox’s wolf, but still nearly twice the size of any I’ve seen before.
Fox goes stiff beside me and the tension in his body makes my own muscles tighten in response.
“Soldiers?” I ask under my breath.
Fox makes a sharp motion with his hand and throws me a look, which can only mean: “Shut up.”
The group makes a beeline for us, walking slowly as if they’re not sure if we might try to attack them. They stop fifty yards away, facing us, and one of them steps forward. He stands there silently for a moment, then lowers his weapon. The others follow suit.
The whole thing is impossibly strange, and I can’t keep myself from leaning over to Fox. “What was that? Do you know them?”
Fox nods once, his jaw tight.
The gray wolf bounds up to us, circling with its nose low to the ground. Fox lowers his weapon and stands perfectly still as the animal sniffs at his boots. I hold my breath until the wolf turns and lopes back to the group.
“She’s the scout,” Fox tells me, nodding toward the gray wolf. “She said that if you raise your hands to use magic, she’ll bite them off.”
“She said?” I question, my eyebrows rising.
Fox taps his temple with two fingers, and my eyes widen. He must be communicating with them telepathically, which can only mean that all of them are shifters.
“Did you hear me?” Fox says, his eyes fixed on mine.
“About the hands? Yes.”
“They’re not exaggerating,” he stresses. “I wouldn’t let them do it, but it would be easier for everyone if…well, it would be better if you just don’t move.”
“Got it.” I let my hands hang loosely at my sides.
Fox looks nervous, as if I’m going to break into a jig just to spite him, but I’m not. He seems legitimately nervous, which isn’t something I’d ever take lightly.
Turning back to the wolves, Fox nods. I wonder if he’s speaking silently again. He must be, because the group moves again, approaching cautiously.
Except for the wolf, who Fox referred to as “she,” all the soldiers appear to be male.
All of them have pale skin and light hair, ranging from white-blonde to honey, to a gingery red.
They’re all tall, like Fox, and appear to be just as muscular, though it’s hard to tell how much of their bulk is armor.
The man in the lead is undoubtedly naturally bulky and might even be more muscular than Fox. I didn’t know that was possible. His long hair and beard are a dark shade of blonde, closer to brown, and his blue eyes narrow in a way that makes me want to take a step back.
The men stop and stand in front of Fox and me, and no one actually says anything. The silence makes my skin crawl.
“Viktor,” Fox says to the man in front. “I see you’re still alive.”
The soldier—Viktor—grins wickedly, but he doesn’t reply out loud.
Fox makes a frustrated sound, and leans over to me pointedly. “He said that he was just thinking the same thing about me.”
Viktor scowls, but takes Fox’s hint. He clears his throat and his voice comes out gravelly, as if he hasn’t used it in a while. “I am surprised to see you, Fox. Last I heard you were shipped off to Dyaspora.”
“I was,” Fox replies flatly.
I notice a ripple pass through the group, shoulders tensing and hands shifting to weapons.
“Bullshit,” Viktor snaps. “No one escapes Dyaspora.”
Fox just stares at him, unblinking. I watch the man’s certainty waver under that cold gaze.
“So you’re back,” he says, recovering himself, “and with a witch.”
I stiffen beside Fox, biting my tongue against the urge to tell him I’m not a witch. This probably isn’t the moment to argue about the semantics of titles.
“I’m not back,” Fox says flatly. “We’re just passing through.”
“Passing through on your way where?” Viktor asks, shrewdly.
“I don’t see how that matters to you,” Fox replies, his voice dangerously calm. “What are you doing here?”
Viktor’s mouth twists into a half-smile. “We were sent to take care of the wyvern, but it looks like you beat us to it.”
Fox nods curtly. “Happy to take it off your hands. We’ll be on our way.”
“Wait.” One of the other soldiers, a man with a short reddish-blonde beard, steps forward. His eyes are locked on me as he notches an arrow. The blood drains from my face as he aims directly at my chest. “We saw the witch using her power.”
Fox’s growl makes my skin prickle. “Put that down,” he says, voice deadly quiet. “You might get one shot off, but you won’t be able to make another before I’ve driven those arrows through both your eyes.”
I watch the soldier’s face pale as Fox’s threat lands. Viktor glances back at the man with the crossbow, his eyes narrowing slightly. A moment passes where nothing is said aloud, but I can tell they’re communicating. Finally, the bearded soldier lowers his bow, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Good choice,” Fox mutters beside me, his voice low enough that only I can hear.
“He’s right, Fox,” Viktor says, turning back to us, with a smug smile that says all too clearly that he’s enjoying this.
“It’s good to see you after all these years.
I might even be inclined to let you go in exchange for the story of how you managed to escape Dyaspora, but I can’t.
We have laws against her kind. We can’t just let the witch go. ”
Fox’s body tenses next to mine. “There are no fucking laws,” he spits, his voice vibrating with barely controlled rage. “This whole area is covered in Fae villages.”
Viktor’s eyes narrow. “They can’t use magic either. It’s outlawed for the entire kingdom.”
“Since when?” Fox demands.
“It’s been a long time since you’ve been back here.” Viktor shrugs. “We have to take the witch to the queen.”
Fox goes completely still beside me. I can practically feel him calculating, weighing options. The muscles in his jaw work beneath his skin.
Meanwhile, my eyes flick to Viktor, sharpening. He has to take me to the queen? Well that doesn’t seem so bad, that’s where I was going anyway. Assuming I’ll get there alive and unhurt…Gods, I wish I were telepathic and could ask Fox to explain the subtext I’m undoubtedly missing.
“Come on,” Viktor says, in an almost friendly tone. “Give us the witch. We’d rather not fight you over it. It’s a shame to lose good wolves fighting amongst ourselves.”
Instead of stepping away from me, Fox moves closer. He puts a hand on my arm and shoves me backwards away from them. “You can’t take her,” he finally says, voice like steel. “She’s mine.”
There’s a ringing silence that lasts so long I think that maybe they’ve slipped back into telepathic communication. All the soldiers are staring at me, even the one still in wolf form. A few look confused or angry, but the others look…hungry.
“She’s yours how?” Viktor asks, looking at me closely for the first time, his gaze raking up and down as if he’s searching for something.
“Exactly how you think,” Fox growls.
“That’s impossible.”
“So is escaping Dyaspora.”
They stare at each other for a moment, then Viktor swears under his breath and shakes his head. “Fuck me. Well, the alpha will want to see you. Both of you.”
Fox grabs my hand, but doesn’t look at me as he replies. “Lead the way.”