Page 32 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
I grasp Peggy’s wrist, demonstrating a smoother motion. “Too much force leaves you unable to adapt.”
“Sorry,” she mutters. “Long way from breeding Corgis.” At my arched brow, she elaborates, “Dogs. From the old world.”
“She’s great with animals.” Geraldine sniffs, wiping her nose. “Told me how humming when she works helps calm them. Right, Peg?”
“You can’t sing a Terror to sleep,” I growl, kicking out to widen her stance. “Balls of your feet. Loose knees. Better.”
Laughter draws my attention. Willow beams at Max. My eyes narrow inhumanly at the back of his brown-haired head. I stride over in time to catch what might not be evident to Max but is glaring to me: Willow pulls her punch at the last moment, sparing Max’s pain. Fury ignites within me. I stride over, seize Max by the scruff, and deliver the blow Willow couldn’t—blood sprays, painting the snow crimson.
He cries out, covering his nose. Willow shouts at me before I grab her viciously by the collar, twisting it and tugging her so close that our noses almost touch. Her scent—wild, defiant—floods my senses.
“You think you’re doing them favors?” I hiss.
“They’re my team. My allies. I can’t do this alone.”
“Protecting them from harsh realities teaches nothing.”
“You didn’t need to make him bleed,” she snaps, eyes flashing despite her trembling lip. “You didn’t need to break his damn nose.”
My tone softens, but my grip remains firm. “He’ll face far worse from creatures more violent than me.”
Guilt works in her gaze. She knows I am right. Coddling them is worse than lying to them. It’s sending them to their death with a blindfold on.
“You’re taking out your frustrations on him,” she whispers.
It hasn’t escaped my notice that she allows this dominance. Her arms hang loose, her body limp. But the fire in her golden eyes promises defiance. It stokes a hunger within me.
“For good reason,” I growl.
“Jealous much?” Her eyebrow arches.
I release her, blinking. “Absurd.”
“Sure.” Her lips curve sardonically. “Just like you weren’t jealous of Briar. Or even Varen.”
Other males’ names on her lips ignite something primal within me. Varen, I can accept. Any in our hive, fine. Never another. The thought startles me. I turn away, her warmth lingering. My body betrays me—pulse-quickening, muscles tensing with the desire to pull her close again.
Red stains the snow. The mortals huddle together, simpering. I’ve gone too far, I realize. But I must keep her safe, even from herself.
Still, I can’t be everywhere all the time. I move to heal Max’s nose. Willow might be right. She needs allies, a team. But a selfish part of me wishes she only needed me.
Chapter 15
Willow
Bodin dismisses Max to the sidelines and pairs off Peggy and Geraldine. His intense gaze locks onto mine. “Willow, you’re with me.”
Feral energy surges through my veins as I meet his challenge head-on. My chin dips, mind already plotting strategy. His eyes narrow, searching for hesitation. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
The steel blade feels foreign in my hand—useless against Sluagh, as I learned with Fox. But it’ll do for now.
“Draw first blood,” Bodin challenges, “and I’ll allow you to come to Burn After Reading tonight.”
A harsh laugh rips from my throat. “Allowme? As if you could stop me.”
His lips thin, silence more damning than words. Realization slams into me—without Fox, without my magic, I’m at their mercy. Doubt claws at my gut as I glance at my friends.
Bodin’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “They’re a distraction. You’ll lose because of them.”
