Page 33 of Shadowkissed

I pivot just in time to dodge the first strike—something silver flashing in the dark, slicing past my face with a hiss. It cuts through the brick wall like butter.

I growl, low and deep, the wolf rising instantly, hot under my skin.

“Come out and play,” I snarl, backing into a defensive stance. “Or are we doing this the coward’s way?”

Laughter drips from the shadows behind me. Cold. Male. Definitely not human.

“You smell like her,” the voice purrs. “Reek of prophecy and corruption.”

I turn toward the sound just as the attacker steps out of the dark.

Tall. Cloaked. Skin the color of spoiled milk, stretched too tight over long limbs. His eyes burn red—no pupils, just raw hate. Fangs like bone daggers gleam in the dark, and his fingers end in black claws, already slick with something dark.

“You’re late to this war, mutt,” he sneers. “And already bleeding.”

“Funny,” I say, cracking my neck, “you talk a lot for someone about to get wrecked.”

He lunges. Fast.

But I’m faster.

I shift partially—not full wolf, but enough. My hands become claws. My strength triples. I catch his blade mid-air, twisting it with a grunt and slamming my elbow into his throat.

He gags. Stumbles.

I spin, driving my boot into his chest. He hits the wall and cracks it. But he’s not down long.

Whatever he is—it’s not fragile. He comes back harder. Meaner. And I don’t hold back.

We trade blows—magic and fists and teeth. I catch his arm andsnapit clean. He stabs me in the ribs with a blade I didn’t see coming, and everything goes white for a second.

Pain’s nothing new. But this? This burns. Poison.

I drop him with a punch that craters the asphalt, then stagger back, breathing hard, blood soaking through my side.

“You don’t even know what she is,” he hisses, dragging himself up. “You think you’rebonded? She’ll break you.”

I growl low. “You talk about her gain and I’ll tear your jaw off.”

He smirks, blood in his teeth. “She’s marked by a god. You think that ends in love? This ends inruin.”

Before I can move again, he vanishes.

No smoke, no shimmer. Justgone.

I drop to one knee, chest heaving. The blade’s still lodged in my side. My vision swims.

I rip it out, throw it to the ground, and press my hand to the wound. Blood slicks my fingers. Black at the edges.

Fuck.

That thing wasn’t sent to kill me. It was sent towarnme.

She’s being hunted. And now so am I.

I make it back to the loft just before sunrise, drenched in sweat and blood.

The second I slam the door shut, I slide down against it, panting.

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