Page 183 of Frost and Death
Are we about to—
“I only have one knife on me.” Jerrick hovers over my ear, lips kissing it slightly, making everything much more heightened.
He slips the knife into my hand and my eyebrows knit together.
I peer up at him, only for my blood to run cold at the sound of leaves crunching somewhere nearby. My heart stops as the horse, too, perks its head up from its sleeping position, aware of the sudden shift in the air.
Goose bumps prickle up the length of my spine as I scan the surroundings, terror gripping my heart at the tall mahogany-brown bear meandering near our campsite.
My eyes flick from the beast to the horse and the gear and weapons resting next to it.
Shit.
I look back at the bear carefully. The sunlight reflects against its thick—probably extremely soft—fur, and the red hues draw in the creature’s natural magnificence.
“Use your magic or throw the knife at it,” Jerrick whispers.
“Are you insane? I can’t do that!” I hiss.
I don’t want to harm anything or anyone.
Jerrick’s mouth lingers near my ear again, his body warming mine, holding my hip. “You can. You have the closer shot. Besides, we came here to hunt and train. Think of this as a surprise lesson.”
I fucking hate surprises.
The horse’s ears dip backward, aware of the threatening presence. The steed shakes its head, unable to move much from being tied to the tree stump.
I freeze in place, panic on the verge of escaping me as the bear sniffs the ground, coming more into view with its head crowned with a tree-branch halo. It is as if Leander, the Maker of Beasts himself, is walking amongst us. His god-like powers are contained in this behemoth of a creature that reigns over the forests of Draymenk.
Fucking Deities, I am going to die today.
“Wh-What about your magic?” I mumble quietly, still gaping at the bear.
“My magic doesn’t kill animals. They have to be severely wounded before I can do anything.”
Every step the bear takes is inches closer to me—itsmeal. “Y-You can’t expect me to do this when a predator is mere feet away fromEATINGme!
He lowers his mouth to my nape, kissing it softly as his hand rests on my hip and squeezes. Hard. “You need to practice all aspects of your training in stressful situations, and this is the perfect opportunity. Just try.”
I tighten my fingers around the hilt, shaking my head in silent objection. “What if I miss?”
My motion rustles the leaves underneath the blanket, and Jerrick’s grip moves from my hip to my head, stopping me from making more noise.
I stop when his whisper is low, dark, and demanding. “Don’t doubt yourself. Now, do it.”
Jerrick gives me some space, careful to minimize the amount of noise he makes to prevent the horse and bear from reacting.
I look back to the steed still unable to see the predator approaching behind it.
My magic could have more consequences for the surrounding area. I could start another ongoing winter in Thresborn Forest if I use my gifts. Without the guarantee of removing the ice, I choose to use the dagger.
Jerrick squeezes my thigh as I glance at my target, waiting for him to stop before throwing the knife.
“A flick of the wrist. Just like I showed you,” he mouths.
But my aim is terrible.
I know it, and the Makers know it.
