Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
ELARIYA
Istayed rooted to the spot, my grip tightening around the hilt of my sword.
The old man laughed.
Laughed at me.
Then he reached up and hooked a finger beneath the skin at his throat.
I stopped breathing. For a moment, I didn't understand it.
Then he pulled, and the skin peeled away like an overripe banana.
My blood ran ice cold as his entire face slid downward like a mask being removed. Funny how I’d just been thinking about people wearing masks. And look.
The old man's features folded inward and collapsed, revealing something beneath that had never been human.
Dark red sinew stretched over a lean frame. Thick brown-black veins pulsed beneath exposed muscle. And he seemed taller. As though he’d made himself small enough to fit in the skin.
The discarded skin landed at its feet with a wet slap and a wide, grinning mouth filled with jagged teeth met my stare.
Around me, the others followed suit.
One by one, they stripped away the faces they wore.
A woman.
A hunter.
A child.
And more strong-looking men.
Their skins fell to the ground like discarded cloaks. Beneath every one of them lurked the same nightmare. The same eyeless grin. The same twitching mass of exposed sinew and veins.
Merciless gods. Was there any point in wondering how I somehow seemed to always land myself in trouble?
This was another place within the magical realm where the impossible could happen. And that was what was happening.
My stomach rolled.
"What in the hells are you?" I whispered.
The creature that had worn the old man’s body tilted its head. "We are what remains."
The skins scattered around their feet twitched. Then the mouths sewn into those discarded faces began to laugh.
It was a living nightmare.
People back home talked about skinwearers, beings who stole your skin if you got lost on magical planes without the right protection and couldn’t find your way back home.
Like most stories in the mortal realm, they were told to frighten children into obedience.
I was quickly learning that every legend began with a grain of truth.
The creature that had once been the burly man moved first. It launched itself at me with terrifying speed. One moment it was upright, the next it dropped onto all fours mid-charge.
Its opened mouth revealed rows of jagged teeth snapping together like a shark’s.
Its limbs twisted with sickening cracks as it bounded across the ground. Exposed sinew stretched over bone and muscle, and that terrible mouth split wider as it rushed toward me.
Gods above, it was far too fucking fast.
Fear held me in its claws and I froze. My heart pounded so hard the beat thrummed over my entire body.
I am going to die here.
The thought crippled me for a moment, then something whispered inside me. Like a feeling given a voice.
The same instinct that had followed me for years telling me to run and hide, let someone stronger handle it, faded.
It faded away, and a slither of strength slipped in as though someone had put it there to remind me how far I’d come. And how much further I still had to go.
It reminded me I had dreams. I had love. And both were worth staying alive for.
I’d asked for training for this very reason.
Strength.
So, as the creature closed the distance, getting closer and closer, I didn’t move.
I didn’t run.
A year ago, I would have fled.
A month ago, I would have fled.
But now? After everything?
No.
Not anymore.
I had crossed realms. Faced monsters. Broken a curse.
And survived.
There had to be a point when I accepted that I was magic born and part of this world.
I was a mage. Not a half-human, half-mage girl. A mage.
No longer was I the girl from Stormfell waiting for someone else to save her.
Nor the frightened bride running from Thayden.
I wasn't helpless. And I definitely wasn’t a fucking coward.
The realization struck with startling clarity, and I tightened my grip on Yuilandria.
Then, as the creature lunged for me, teeth snapping as it came for my throat, I met it head-on.
The impact drove me backward and pain exploded through my shoulder as the creature crashed into me, sending both of us tumbling across the ground.
I hit the earth hard, and the breath rushed from my lungs, burning with the metallic taste of copper on my tongue.
The Skinwearer recovered first. No surprise there.
With a snarl, it twisted toward me, one massive clawed paw slashing for my face.
My training took over and I swung back, slicing through its skin.
The magic in the sword could only be used at my will when it was connected to my active magic. Without it—like now—it would choose what effect to deliver at the right time.
It was a game of trust.
I rolled to the side. The creature’s claws tore through empty air where my head had been a heartbeat earlier, then it lunged again.
I met the blow with my blade. Yuilandria flashed between us, deflecting the impact away from my body. Still, the effect rattled my arms.
Gods, this beast was strong.
I needed to kill it —if I could—before its strength wore me down. I pushed off the ground and regained my footing just as it rounded for another attack.
This time as the Skinwearer sprang forward, I stepped inside its reach and swept my sword upward in a vicious arc right into its arm.
The blade bit deep.
A wet tearing sound echoed through the clearing, and the creature's arm separated from its body. It spun away into the grass, and dark blood sprayed across the ground.
Hope leapt inside me as the Skinwearer howled, stumbling backward, clutching the ruin of its shoulder.
Rage replaced the bravado that had been on its face, and even that vanished seconds later when the creature stumbled again.
Fear brimmed in its eyes, and it clutched the remaining hand to its chest. A strangled sound escaped its mouth.
"Wha—" The word never finished. Dark cracks spread across its body, racing beneath the exposed sinew and muscle like rot consuming a fallen tree.
The creature looked down at Yuilandria, and realization struck us both at the same time.
The sword had made its choice, and it looked like it was choosing to drain the creature’s life force.
Gods.
The Skinwearer staggered as its body withered before my eyes. The dark veins collapsed inward, and its skinless form caved in on itself as though centuries were suddenly catching up to it.
An anguished howl tore from its throat. The sound died within seconds. All that remained was a pile of gray ash.
A soft breeze swept through the clearing, lifting the ashes into the air and scattering them among the trees.
The clearing fell silent and every Skinwearer froze, watching me.
The creature that was the old man's grin faltered, but genuine surprise flickered across his face.
"A magic sword," he bellowed.
The pack looked toward him.
"We could do well with one of those." He laughed, undeterred and pointed at me. "Get her and bring me that sword."
Oh hells, no.
The clearing exploded into motion. The pack of creatures came at me from every direction.
The ones I'd already seen rushed forward while more emerged from the trees, spilling from the mist in numbers I couldn't begin to count.
Shit. I couldn’t take on this many.
My best chance was getting away from them and heading back to Wolfe. But I couldn’t just run. The moment I turned my back, they’d maul me down before I got out of the woods.
Yuilandria flashed as I raised her into the air, ready to tackle two Skinwearers.
I ducked as they leapt toward me and swung my blade upward.
Both crumbled to ash.
More came, and I dealt the same blows, thankful the sword had chosen to deliver my strongest magic.
But they kept coming.
Merciless gods, they just kept coming.
I parried a strike and stumbled backward.
How many of them were there?
And how had they doubled? I’d gotten rid of at least ten.
There were too many of them.
All this time, the old man creature hadn't moved.
He remained near his rock, watching the battle unfold with infuriating patience, his eyes on my sword.
I saw his game then. He didn't care how many Skinwearers died. He wanted the sword and me for dinner.
Once they wore me down, they’d be able to get both.
A fresh surge of Skinwearers burst from the trees, but I kept my focus on the old man.
He was the leader.
Cut off the head and the body is weak.
I growled and charged straight toward him. If I could take him out—
Something slammed into my side.
The impact ripped my feet from beneath me.
I crashed hard into the ground and my sword went flying.
Pain exploded everywhere, and the air left my lungs in a violent rush.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move, or think.
The world spun, and I felt like I was going to vomit the little water I had consumed.
I rolled onto my back just in time to see a massive Skinwearer launch itself into the air above me with its mouth opened impossibly wide.
Jagged teeth glistened as it descended toward me, ready to tear me apart.
But something hit it first. A blur of shadow slammed into the creature with enough force to shake the surroundings.
A sickening tearing sound split the air and the Skinwearer screamed.
Then its body ripped apart.
Blood and gore exploded outward in a crimson spray.
I threw up an arm to shield my face as the two halves of the creature were wrenched violently in opposite directions.
Terror filled me, until I saw Wolfe behind the blood bath.
Wolfe in Fae form.
Not the Deathwalker.
And his wings were unfurled, flickering in a furious mass of shadows and smoke.
Gods be good, he’d changed back completely.