Page 85 of Kingdoms of Night

The dark fetid waters came up almost to its shoulders and hips, giving it the appearance of gliding.

Heat surged in his veins. His muscles tensed with anticipation.

The wyrm’s tongue snaked out as its head swiveled back and forth, probably trying to flush them out.

Idalno remained on the boulder, one hand steadying herself and the other gripping the reed near her mouth. Sweat rolled down her cheeks and neck. The wolves remained at the ready, tails not even twitching.

Another crane landed on the boulders to the right. It shrieked at the wyrm and flung more rocks at it.

The wyrm snapped its head around, leaving one side of its face fully exposed to Idalno.

“Now!” he called out to her.

Idalno lifted the blowpipe to her mouth and sent a sharp blast of air through. The dart shot out and struck the wyrm in the eye. It flung its head back and shrieked.

The werewolf claws tore out of his hands as he leaped through the air. His wolf reveled in being unleashed, thirsty for a kill. He landed cleanly on the back of its neck and seized it by the antlers.

The wyrm roared as it arched back. He held fast, summoning all his strength. All the werewolf brutality and ferocity channeled into a single movement.

He ripped off its head and tossed it aside.

The antlers broke off and crumbled into powder.

The head rolled end over end before sloshing against the muddy wall of the embankment.

Black bile poured out from the creature’s severed neck. His wolf basked in the wet warmth of life seeping freely even as he himself spat out the foul liquid and grimaced.

Disgusting. Worse than festering bog water. But a part of him enjoyed the slickness coating his body, making his blood run hot and his mouth water for prey.

The body collapsed, sending out a large surge into the pond.

It’s dead!Buttercup jumped in the air with delight.Now we run! Quick. Into sunlight and clean water.

Dead, dead, dead. Hawthorn gave a sage nod before he shook his fur soundly, sending out a spray of dark water droplets.

“We did it!” Idalno sprang from the boulder back to solid ground, then dusted her fine clothes off.

“Stay there,” he hissed at her, his voice monstrously deep. He tried not to imagine the thew and sinew and blood beneath her skin, how her flesh would feel beneath him, how she’d sound, her pulse racing, how she’d taste—

He turned his Changed face away and hid his claws from her line of sight. Instead, he remembered how it felt to fall through a frozen pond in the dead of winter, the million icy daggers needling his skin, the chill that pierced to his bones, the frigid water filling his mouth.

Shivering, he let his jaw return to normal and the claws recede back into his hands. That sharp sting and dull ache soon receded, although the foul taste remained.

He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and then spat out another mouthful. Much worse than bog water.

“So,” Idalno began, eyeing him warily, “the poison is from that thing—”

The corpse shuddered.

A long beak protruded from the neck.

The crane on the rock uttered a happy shriek and tossed its red-capped head as the first crane emerged, somehow alive. It flopped out and shook its broad gray wings, then bobbed its head and flew up to its mate.

The two preened and groomed at the first crane’s feathers, happy squawks and chirrs reassuring the two that all was well.

They probably had a nest nearby. Bad location for those two, but at least they had a happy ending. For now.

He waded to the low waterfall where the clean water spilled over into the wyrm’s pond. He cupped a handful and started to drink.

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