Page 27 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood

The creature screams and spins around. But as if to say the goddess is not pleased with my actions, another one, larger than the rest, pounces from the side. My fire meets it, but the beast is clever, hissing and twisting midair to avoid the brunt of the blaze.

When the beast lunges once more, I sidestep.

But I’m not quite fast enough.

Massive claws rake across my left forearm, sparking a line of fire that has nothing to do with my magic. Blood, bright crimson against the darkness, wells up.

I jerk my arm back as fiery pain spreads.

Breathing through the agony, I grit my teeth and swing the short sword in my other hand. Time slows as the other paw, claws already extended, streaks toward me. It’s a race to learn which of us is faster.

And I know I’m going to lose.

All I can do is stand there and watch as those glistening claws come for my chest.

I need to move away. Duck. Roll. Anything. I need to?—

Crimson meets ivory, then paints the fur as its strike continues and mine has only just started. I’m going to die. I’m going to be crushed by this angry, snarling animal, then ripped apart.

The animal stops, jerking its paw away as if I burned it.

But I haven’t.

The cave cat leaps into the air, tail swirling to keep itself balanced, and lands a full pace and a half back.

Unprepared for the sudden retreat, I stumble.

Glittering emerald eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I think there’s some hint of thought behind them.

As confusion ripples through me again, I realize it’s not mine, but the animal’s. That ripple spreads through the rest of the pack, where before, there had been no emotions at all.

None that I’d felt, anyway.

No fear. Not even hunger. They attacked us because we were here. That was all. But now they’re…confused?

The effect is instantaneous, inexplicable. The felines freeze, eyes wide. As one, they turn, slipping back into the forest from which they came, leaving us standing in the sudden, eerie calm.

“They’re retreating.” Agnar exhales, disbelief coloring his tone.

We stand here, a band of weary fighters, watching the darkness reclaim its own. There’s no victory in this retreat, only questions, along with the lingering taste of fear over knowing how close we came to being undone by the night itself.

Wings still burning bright with fire, I pat my chest. I was so close to death, I’m surprised to find my flesh intact.

Silence clings to us, a shroud that’s far too welcome after the snarls and screams. I press a hand to my arm, wincing as the fabric of my tunic sticks to the cuts.

My blood feels hot against the chilly night air. “Everyone okay?”

Nods come slowly, hesitantly. Blair’s lip is split, Agnar sports a bruise blooming across his cheek, and Leesa flexes her wrist. But it’s nothing fatal. Nothing that won’t heal with time. Out of everyone, I suffered the worst wound.

Looking at the injury in the light, I realize it isn’t even all the deep. The cuts are long and ragged, and will probably scar, but the bleeding has already stopped.

“Could’ve been worse.” Bastian shakes out his hands, his knuckles scraped raw.

“Much.” Then I freeze.

Red eyes stare out from the dark thicket behind the others. My breath catches in my throat, heart hammering as I tense, preparing for another assault.

The eyes swivel, and with that movement, I detect the head and body around them.

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