Chapter 17
The ruins of an old temple stand haloed in the moonlight. Frozen vines curl around the ancient stone pillars, peppering them with decayed purple flowers that must bloom here in the summer. The vines wind through the crumbling masonry like veins through a corpse.
Along the one remaining wall, shattered stained glass still clings stubbornly to a windowpane.
What’s left of it glitters in shades of green, brown, and yellow.
A tree bathed in sunlight, perhaps. I’d guess it represents some portion of the Tree God myth.
Now the image is fractured, broken into shards that catch the moonlight.
Tristan walks beside me, silent as a shadow. For the past two weeks, he’s kept his distance. Even during our dawn trainings, he barely speaks unless it’s to correct my form. I wonder if the queen warned him too. Still, his gaze prickles my skin when he thinks I’m not looking.
He refuses to touch me now. There’s no brush of knuckles when we spar, no firm grip at my waist to adjust my posture, no steadying hand when I slip in the icy training yard. The physical denial hums between us, taut and hot. I hate it, and I crave it all the same.
“Why have you brought me here?” I ask, my breath turning into white mist in the cold.
“It’s time to put what you’ve learned to the test.” Tristan kicks aside rubble, clearing a smooth area in the center of the temple. “If you’re going to kill the Fox King, you’ll need to practice the killing part.”
I cross my arms in front of my chest. “A giant moose wasn’t enough?”
He gives me a dark smirk. “As much as I enjoyed watching you murder a moose, that was nothing compared to the Fox King.”
I tsk. “Pity. I’d assumed he’d bleed the same.”
“For one thing, your father has an army.”
I kick a pebble, and it skitters across the ground. The sound echoes through the stone temple. “And you think I’m useless against him if I can’t access my powers.” It’s not a question.
“Yet.” His voice is confident, firm. “You can’t access your powers yet.”
“How are you so sure I will again?”
Tristan stops clearing away rubble and turns to face me. “Because I’ve seen you fight, Red. You don’t quit. In the end, that’s who wins.”
The words hang heavy, stirring something fierce in me. I take a deep breath. “I’ve tried, Tristan. I don’t know how to bring my powers back.”
Tristan shrugs as he continues clearing away frost-speckled rubble. “The queen believes you just need focus and control.”
“Easy for her to say.”
Above us, moonlight spills into the temple.
The ceiling fell apart at least a century ago, leaving the star-strewn sky visible from our place at the white marble altar.
I clear off the snow to find it’s cracked, and the corners have crumbled away.
But I can still make out faint details. The smooth surface was decorated with stars and moon phases before the gold foil washed away with centuries of rain.
This temple must have been beautiful once. I can feel the sacred weight of this space. Feel what it used to represent before people left and nature reclaimed it.
Tristan looks through the shattered stained-glass tree at the crescent moon that shines in the distance. “Your powers of healing and light are strong. Stronger, perhaps, than anyone else in your bloodline. It will come back. I’m sure of it.”
I wish I were as certain of myself.
My fingers trail over the gold moon inlays on the marble altar. “And how do you expect me to practice murder here tonight?”
His eyes dart around the darkened temple. “With a creature that’s been spotted here lately. It’s been terrorizing the villagers. Stealing their livestock.”
A shiver runs up my spine. The shadows between the broken pillars feel darker now, more ominous. “What is it?”
He shakes his head slowly. “Nothing natural. A creature bred between fae and animal, most likely.”
My skin prickles. “That’s possible?”
His mouth pinches in a thin line. “It shouldn’t be.” The way he says it makes me think he’s already preparing for the worst.
“But?”
“But the fae sometimes act in unfathomable ways.” He grimaces. “Whether this creature was made intentionally or by accident, it’s hard to know.”
I nod, trying to dispel the image of the dungeon fae from my mind … and his morbid fetish for blond women. The memory lingers, like the taste of bile at the back of my throat.
“Then again …” Tristan pauses.
I raise my eyebrow at him, urging him to finish his thought. “Then again, what?”
He gives me an odd look. “Then again, I suppose that’s how we were made, humans with light and shadow powers. When high fae mingled with human nobility.”
“It creates monsters.”
He gives me a small laugh. “Maybe so, Red. Maybe so.”
A branch snaps in the distance, sharp as a bone breaking. My breath hitches. Tristan’s posture instantly shifts to alert, like a cat ready to spring. He holds one finger up to his lips and gives me a pointed look.
I nod, swallow hard, and flex my fingers over the daggers strapped to my thighs.
Several this time. I won’t be caught unprepared again, not after the dungeon fae.
I’d found a measly armory during one of my sleepless nighttime walks.
There wasn’t much there, a handful of rusty swords, axes with broken handles, bits and pieces of tarnished silver armor.
But I took the best of the daggers, polished them, and sharpened their blades.
When I first arrived at dawn training with silver blades strapped to both thighs, Tristan didn’t even blink. I’m becoming more of a Wolf each day, it seems.
I unbuckle my cloak and let it slip to the ground.
If I’m expected to fight, I need to move.
The scarlet fabric pools like spilled blood at my feet.
Tristan’s gaze flickers toward it, then back to me, quick and sharp.
He gives me an approving nod. I adjust my stance to match his, two predators ready to hunt.
Snow crunches beneath Tristan's boots as he steps over the shattered remains of a stone archway.
As I listen for the sound of an approaching animal, the air grows colder.
Unnaturally so. It prickles across my skin, settling into the hollows of my bones.
I shiver, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of a dagger.
“You feel that?” I whisper, breath curling in the cool air.
Tristan nods as he unsheathes his silver sword. Shadows coil along the blade. “It’s close.” He shifts nearer. The awareness between us burns hotter than the cold air.
A sound splits the stillness, a low, bone-deep growl that thrums in my chest. Outside the temple, a creature steps out from behind an overgrown elderberry bush.
At first, I think it’s an enormous emaciated polar bear.
But it’s no such thing. It moves in impossible ways.
Its joints bend too far, like limbs pulled by marionette strings.
Its fur shimmers like frost, and jagged spines of ice ripple down its back.
The creature halts, noticing us through the ruined window.
Every nerve in my body is on alert as it pushes its heavy front paws into the icy ground and stands on its hind legs.
It lets out a howl that sounds so unnatural, I cringe and cover my ears with my hands.
The sound rattles through my ribs, and stars pop in front of my eyes.
The temple walls groan and dust falls on us like rain.
The creature moves fast, catching us both off-guard as it charges into the temple through a crumbled wall.
Stone explodes around it in a spray of ice and grit.
It lunges, claws scraping stone as Tristan’s sword flashes, shadows writhing.
He slices a jagged arc toward the beast's face.
Shadows bite deep into its flesh, but the creature barely flinches.
Breath mists from its jaws, spreading crystalline frost across the floor.
My heart is racing, but I steady myself. I try to summon my power, but nothing comes. It stays silent in my chest.
“Focus!” Tristan yells, twisting to evade another swipe. The beast’s claws slam into the marble altar, cutting deep grooves into the stone. “Control your power!”
“I’m trying!” I grit my teeth. My voice cracks with rising panic.
Infuriated, I try to call it forth again but fail. This is useless and I’m wasting time.
Enough. I’ll have to handle this creature a different way.
I dart toward the bear’s flank, quick and quiet while it’s focusing on Tristan.
My feet slide along the icy ground as I slash the creature’s hind leg with one of my daggers.
With my other hand, I land a second cut in its side.
The blade sinks deep into its fur, but instead of blood, shards of ice spray outward, racing up my arm like splintered glass. Panic blooms in my chest.
“Red!” Tristan slams his blade into the beast’s ribs. Shadows pour into the wound, spreading like poison. The frost bear growls, and the sound shakes what’s left of the temple. The walls tremble, rubble spilling from cracks above. For a heartbeat, I think the whole ruin might collapse on us.
I grit my teeth and shake the ice from my arm. Frost burns my fingers, but I don’t stop moving. I jump out of the path of another powerful swipe of claws.
Tristan swings his shadow-laced sword again, but the beast kicks out, sending Tristan skidding across the icy floor.
He hits hard, sliding to a stop at the foot of the altar.
I lunge toward him on instinct, my hand outstretched to help, but he’s already pushing himself up.
There’s blood on his lips and a storm in his gray eyes.
His dark hair hangs wild across his brow, and his jaw is set.
The sight sparks something sharp in me, something hotter than fear.
I fling a dagger at the creature’s head. It slices the beast’s ear before clanking to the ground on the other side of the temple. The creature twists to look at me, taking its attention off Tristan for a moment.